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DNA CARLISLE; 


OR, 


FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


BT 


MRS. C. W. DOYLE. 


Z SEP 20 f88 / a) 


Wichita, Kansas : 

C. W. DOYLE, Publisher. 


\% X 


Y'Z-i 

.'Jl'IlVb 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1887, by 
C. W. DOYLE, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



TO MY BELOVED BROTHER, 

JAMES M. JENNINGS, 

THIS STORY IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 

BY THE AUTHOR, 

IN MEMORY OF THE HAPPY DAYS OF OUR CHILDHOOD, WHEN 
WE PLAYED AMONG THE SCENES HEREIN DESCRIBED, 
AND ENJOYED A PERSONAL ACQUAINTANCE 
WITn SOME OF THE CHARACTERS 


OF THIS STORY, 



PREFACE. 


In presenting this work to the public, I have 
but a few brief remarks to make. Though in the 
construction of this story I have often waved the 
romancer’s magic wand, and called before me 
shadows which should obey my behest, yet the 
story is in itself founded upon facts, and some of 
the principal characters were my intimate friends 
in the days of my childhood. 

Formerly I have confined my literary efforts to 
the realm of poetry ; but I realized that there are 
minds and hearts to be wrought upon which can 
not be reached through the medium of rhyme. 
Therefore, bidding Memory bring before me the 
shapes and shadows of other days, and calling 
to my side bright-eyed Fancy and Ideality, I 
began this story. The hours spent in its con- 
struction were to me a season of delight ; and the 
characters became so real that their joys became 
my joys, and for their sorrows my tears often 

flowed ; and now that the story is done I look 
5 


VI 


PREFACE. 


with what I believe to be a pardonable pride 
upon the work which has cost me many months 
of anxious care. I am convinced that my story 
will benefit every unprejudiced mind ; and while 
I do not claim that it contains any profound 
knowledge, I believe that like as music, poetry, 
flowers and numerous other things which give 
delight to the human heart, this also will assist 
in lifting the weight of care from burdened minds, 
and make the hours pass brightly. And that it 
may cause the minds of its readers to reach out 
after the good, the beautiful, and the true, is the 
sincere wish of 


THE AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER. PAGE* 

I. Edna Carlisle and her home ... 9 

II. Evert Place 20 

III. “The grief unspoken whispers the o’er 

fraught heart and bids it break ” . 32 

IY. “ To live in hearts we leave behind is not 

to die” 43 

Y. A change for Edna 53 

yi. Flossie’s yiolet 65 

VII. The Atwoods 78 

VIII. “ Rock me to sleep, Mother ” ... 87 

IX. Earl Whitney 95 

X. The moss rose 102 

XI. “ Love, and love only, is the loan for love ” 114 

XII. “Love’s thread of gold ” .... 123 

XIII. An old enemy and new terrors . . . 134 

XIV. The lightning flashes evil tidings. . . 143 

XV. The bleeding heart unveiled . . . 150 

XVI. “ Coming events cast their shadows before ” 156 

XVII. “Oh! for a warning voice” ... 167 

XVIII. “ Who veileth love should first have van- 
quished fate ” 176 

XIX. “ It might have been ” . . . . 183 

XX. “ Time tries the troth in everything ” . 192 

XXI. “ The trail of the serpent is over it all ” . 201 

XXII. “ She loved you better than you knew ” 213 

XXIII. “ Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the 

helm ” 220 

XXIV. “To suffer and be strong” . . . 234 

7 


viii 

CONTEXTS. 


CHAPTER. 

PAGE. 

XXV. 

“You will wake, and remember and un- 



derstand ” 

246 

XXVI. 

Saint and sinner 

256 

XXVII, 

Among the flowers 

268 

XXVIII. 

“ Divided ” 

275 

XXIX, 

“ Charity sufiereth long and is kind ” , 

283 

XXX. 

Dark waters 

393 

XXXI, 

“ This yoke of mine that reaches not to 



you” . . , . . 

298 

XXXII. 

Fare thee well ...... 

303 

XXXIII. 

“ Our only hope is to forget ” 

313 

XXXIV. 

A letter “ made of the most convincing 



flowers ” 

322 

XXXV. 

The story of the flowers told 

331 

XXXVI. 

“ Down I thou climbing sorrow ” 

337 

XXXVII. 

“ Dark lowers our fate” . . . . 

348 

XXXVIII. 

“ Look on a love that knows not to despair” 

358 

XXXIX. 

The name on the tree .... 

368 

XL. 

“ There is beggary in the love that can be 



reckoned ” 

376 

XLI. 

“ The past unregretted, the future sure ” 

384 


EDNA CARLISLE; 

Or, FLOSSIE’S YIOLET. 


CHAPTER I. 

EDNA CARLISLE AND HER HOME. 

“Mourn for the mourner, and not for the dead, 

For he is at rest, and we in tears.” 

One bright June morning, as the rising sun was 
sending his tremulous rays of light upon the earth, 
and flushing the sky with a glow of rosy dawn, the 
curtains of a luxuriously furnished apartment in a 
suburban cottage were drawn aside, that the dying 
eyes of Oscar Carlisle might look for the last time 
upon the glowing orb of day. 

His eyes dwelt with a lingering gaze upon the 
world without; doubtless the earth and sky ap- 
peared to his dying eyes to be adorned with a new 
beauty, which he would fain have time to enjoy 
longer ; but “unto dying eyes the casement slowly 
grows a glimmering square and with quivering 
lips and a weary sigh, he turned away ; and his 
eyes filled with tears as his glance fell upon his 
wife, who was weeping near his bed. 

( 9 ) 


10 


EDNA CARLISLE: 


She was a woman of perhaps twenty- eight years 
of age ; her face, though wan from weary vigils and 
hopeless sorrow, still bore evident traces of beauty, 
and that she was of a gentle, affectionate disposi- 
tion the dying man well knew, for it was those 
very qualities that had won his love. 

She had been a sewing girl before their marriage ; 
chance made them acquainted, and her beautiful 
face, her gentle, confiding disposition, and unshel- 
tered life so won upon him that, notwithstanding 
his social position was higher than hers, he took 
her to his great loving heart and cherished her. 

If he ever sighed that her soul could not mate 
with his, that she never could reach up to his high 
thoughts, none ever knew; but his love never 
wavered ; and when Death began to cast his chill- 
ing bands about the heart of Oscar Carlisle, he felt 
that that agony shrank back, awed into quiet by 
the greater pain that wrenched his heart as he 
bade his grief- stricken wife a last good-bye. 

After the farewells had been spoken he turned 
his dying eyes with eager, expectant gaze toward 
the door of the room. 

Presently an elderly lady entered, leading two 
children ; a boy aged five, and a little girl of three 
years. 

The woman, evidently the mother of Mrs. Car- 
lisle, was weeping bitterly ; and the children, 
aroused from slumber at that early hour to bid 
their father good-bye, were frightened at the name 


ok, Flossie’s violet. 11 

of death, which seemed coupled with so much sor- 
row. 

With sobs and tears, the dying man clasped his 
children to his breast and kissed their wondering 
faces ; then as the little girl cried pitifully to sit 
beside him, her grandmother lifted her upon the 
bed, where she might sit for the last time encircled 
by her father’s arms. 

Her fair baby face, with its dark blue eyes and 
clustering jet black hair, seemed a perfect minia- 
ture of the face of the dying man; and she sat 
beside him in the sweet ignorance of childhood, 
serenely smiling into his dying eyes, and all un- 
conscious that those protecting arms, which, if he 
had lived, would have been so strong to defend 
her from the ills of life, would soon be folded 
across his silent heart. 

Turning to his wife, Mr. Carlisle said : 

“ Gertrude, I regret now that I did not make my 
will ; but I think that I can trust you to carry out 
my wishes.” He paused a moment, then resumed 
the subject in a voice which grew more feeble with 
each utterance. “ Give Archie a good education, 
and perhaps a few thousand to start him in life. 
I think that with careful management of what I 
leave you, you will be abundantly able to do so.” 

“But O ! ” he exclaimed in a broken whisper, as 
he clasped the little girl to his breast, “ O Edna ! 
my darling baby girl ! with your life unsheltered 


12 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


by a father’s love, who is to guide your feet into 
paths of pleasantness ? ” 

He held her close in a dying embrace, his lips 
moving faintly, evidently in prayer; then came a 
low quivering sigh — the child began to cry, and 
struggle for release — her grandmother unclasped 
the embracing arms, and found that with his dying 
prayer, the soul of Oscar Carlisle had passed into 
the great beyond. 

* * X XXX 

Eight years later we gather up the thread of our 
story, briefly sketching the interval. 

Two years after the death of her husband, Mrs. 
Carlisle was married to George Slater, a. profes- 
sional gambler, who regarded his marriage to her 
much as he would a turn of the game, except that 
in this instance he played for larger stakes than 
usual, and had all to win, and nothing to lose. 

In justice to the unfortunate woman we must 
add that she had no knowledge of the true charac- 
ter of the man ; being of a truthful and affectionate 
disposition, she was not ready to believe evil of 
others ; and she thought him the gentleman that 
he appeared to be ; and when Time, the revealer 
of secrets, disclosed the man’s true character, in 
bitterness of spirit she cried : “ Let me die.” 

All of her money of which he could obtain the 
control passed rapidly from his hands at the gam- 
ing table. 

At last, about two years after their marriage, he 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


13 


apparently yielded to her admonitions and en- 
treaties, and promised to start in business if she 
would furnish the means. 

This request she gladly complied with, and he 
opened a large grocery store, and for a short time 
he appeared to prosper. It was not long, however, 
until he started a saloon in a room adjoining the 
grocery, and the proceeds of the store passed out 
of his hands over the gaming table. 

At last their pleasant home was sold to replenish 
the grocery stock, and Mrs. Slater moved into a 
more humble house than she had occupied in her 
girlhood. 

At the time when we resume our story the value 
of their stock, all told, was not more than three 
hundred dollars. However, Mr. Slater had just 
heard of a place in the country that seemed to him 
to hold out a promise of retrieving his fallen for- 
tunes. 

Accordingly he went out to see the place. It was 
a fiye roomed cottage, the front room of which had 
been built for, and used by, a former tenant as 
grocery store. It was situated about live miles 
from the city, and three miles from the village of 
Rochester; and to Mr. Slater’s mind it afforded 
such a pleasing prospect of being able to sell 
“ drinks ” to travelers, that he leased the place, 
and in a few days moved his family into their 
new home. 

There he also brought the remainder of the 


14 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


grocery and saloon stock, and all day the little 
cottage resounded with the sound of hammer and 
saw, and the bustle of getting things “put to 
rights.” 

Eight years in passing leaves its impress on 
most faces, but a woeful change had come over 
the countenance of Mrs. Slater. 

Her former beauty had been replaced by a 
weary, faded look, and on her face rested an ex- 
pression of unutterable sadness. 

Sorrow was now her daily portion, and the cup 
of bitterness of which she continually drank was 
made still more unpleasant by an accusing con- 
science. 

After the labors of the day were about over, 
the children went out to take a look around their 
new home. 

It was surrounded with much rural loveliness; 
and belonging to the cottage was an orchard 
and garden, and about six acres of meadow land 
which sloped down to the river ; and the children 
were soon seated on the river bank observing the 
beauty of their surroundings with delight. 

Archie was a child of whom a phrenologist 
would have said that the spiritual and intellect- 
ual predominated over the physical. Moreover he 
had inherited the timid disposition of his mother. 

Edna closely resembled her father in her fea- 
tures, vigorous mind and resolute will. Her face, 
lovely now in its childish beauty, would develop 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


15 


into yet greater beauty, for tlie poet soul now 
slumbered; by and by it would awake to life 
and glorify those perfect features. 

A pleasing picture they formed as they sat there ; 
a large dog was crouched at Edna’s feet. This 
dog was exceedingly dear to the children, it being 
the only thing left them which belonged to their 
father. Ever and anon Edna would stoop to pat 
and caress him, then would pause and gaze 
around her in silence. 

“Don’t you like it?” Archie timidly inquired. 

“I think it beautiful here, if it were not for 
that,” she replied, pointing with intense scorn 
at the liquor sign which her step-father had swung 
out in front of the store. 

“I hate it too,” Archie replied; “but I am 
glad we live so near the schoolhouse ; when school 
opens we will be away from home almost all day ; 
and when we are studying we will forget about un- 
pleasant things.” 

“Yes, you will,” she replied bitterly; “when 
you have a book you forget everything else ; but I 
do not. The pain and shame of our lives stay 
with me always ; and often I lay awake at night, 
and cry for my old home and my mother as she 
used to be when we were little.” 

Archie made no reply, but turned away with a 
quivering sigh, that showed her words had found 
an echo in his own heart. 


1G 


EDNA CARLISLE: 


Just then Mrs. Slater appeared in the door- way 
and called in a fretful tone, 

“ Edna, Edna.” 

The children arose with a simultaneous sigh, 
being exceedingly weary from the unusual labors 
of the day. 

As they entered the house, Mrs. Slater exclaim- 
ed, 

“ Edna, I want you to set the table. What do 
you mean by going off and leaving all the work 
for me to do when you know I am so tired I am 
just ready to drop ? ” 

Edna made no reply, but immediately began 
preparing the table for their evening meal. 

“ Tired, are you? ” ejaculated Mr. Slater, coming 
into the room, “ guess I had better fix you up a 
drink of something cheering.” 

His wife feebly remonstrated, but paying no at- 
tention to her words, he busied himself preparing 
a bowl of steaming punch ; measuring the ingre- 
dients, and tasting it with the air of a connoisseur. 

Pouring out a couple of glasses of the beverage 
he took one himself, and gave the other to Mrs. 
j Slater, who drank it without further remonstrance. 

Archie and Edna exchanged frightened glances. 
This was no unusual proceeding in their home ; 
yet it was one which always filled them with 
alarm. 

Mr. Slater was constantly tempting his wife to 
the use of intoxicants. Somehow her sad white 


OR, floosie’s a^iolet. 


it 


face troubled his conscience, and he longed to 
make her a partaker of his sins, that he might 
escape the mute reproach of her troubled counte- 
nance. 

The poor woman struggled against the tempta- 
tion, for she felt that in yielding she was treading 
on dangerous ground ; but she was timid and com- 
pliant by nature, and he strong and masterful, and 
his will always overbore hers ; and more than once 
the children had been horrified to see their mother 
intoxicated. 

When they were all seated at the table, Slater 
looked about him with a satisfied smile. 

“ Well, I think we have done the proper thing at 
last,” he said. “ We ’ll make money here, or I 
am greatly mistaken, and when Edna is grown 
she will be a fortune to us.” 

Mrs. Slater looked at him in surprise. u What 
do you mean ? ” she inquired. 

“ Just this,” he replied; “those who drink will 
drink the oftener, for having the glasses passed to 
them by white, dimpled hands like these,” (touch- 
ing, as he spoke, one of Edna’s hands). 

She drew back her hand, saying indignantly* 

“ I would never do such a thing, never ! ” 

“You won’t?” he exclaimed in astonishment 
and rising anger. 

“I will not,” she replied haughtily, the indig- 
nant flush mounting to her brow. 

“I would die first;” adding, “My father would 
12 ) 


18 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


never have allowed me to do such a thing if he 
had lived.” 

At this Mrs. Slater began to weep hysterically, 
as she always did when reference was made to her 
dead husband. 

Slater arose from the table and passed out of 
the house, returning in a minute with a switch in 
his hand. Seizing Edna by the shoulder, he drag- 
ged her to the door, exclaiming with an oath, 

“ I will teach you that no one in my house shall 
say ‘ I won’t’ to me.” 

“Oh, don’t hurt her, please don’t,” Archie 
pleaded in frightened tones, struggling to free his 
sister. 

With an angry exclamation, Slater gave the boy 
a violent push that sent him against the wall, 
pale and breathless. Then the angry man raised 
the rod and brought it down with terrible force 
upon the girl’s white, quivering flesh. 

Mrs. Slater screamed and stood helpless and ir- 
resolute, not knowing what to do. But there was 
a defender there who had so far been unnoticed. 

The dog Leo had been attracted to the spot by 
their cries ; and as Slater raised his arm to give 
the second blow, the dog sprang forward and 
caught the uplifted arm in his powerful jaws, 
tearing the man’s sleeve, and lacerating the flesh 
in a terrible manner. In her fright Mrs. Slater 
caught Leo by the collar and vainly struggled to 
quiet the enraged animal. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


19 


With an ejaculation of pain and rage, Slater 
dropped the rod, and struck Edna to the ground 
with a cruel blow ; then he turned and passed into 
the store room, his face quite white from pain and 
rage. 

Archie assisted his sister to rise, and Mrs. Slater 
sank into a chair, and wept bitterly. 

Presently Slater returned with a revolver in his 
hand — another moment and a report rang out on 
the air — a bullet pierced the heart of the faithful 
dog and her defender dropped dead at Edna’s 
feet. 

Two hours later Archie and Edna were weeping 
over the grave of their faithful dog. To some 
persons that scene would have provoked a smile ; 
but their grief at the loss of Leo was indeed great, 
for he was the only thing that they possessed 
which had belonged to their father — the last link 
between them and the old happy life ; and they 
wept over his grave with their hearts swelling with 
a bitter sense of injustice and loss. 


20 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER II. 

EVERT PLACE. 

“ Be what thou seemest, live thy creed, 

Hold up to earth the torch divine. 

Be what thou prayest to be made ; 

Let the great Master’s steps be thine.” 

And now we beg the reader to stray with us on 
the wings of fancy to the home of Dr. Evert, or 
Evert Place, as it was commonly called. 

The house sat a little back from the main road, 
and was large and tasteful in architecture, and in 
appearance was decidedly suggestive of home com- 
fort. 

It was bounded on the north by sloping mead- 
ows ; on the south by a large orchard and garden ; 
and the out-buildings and stock that filled in the 
picture on the west, gave an air of thrift and 
plenty to the place ; while the well-kept lawn, and 
abundance of rare flowers and shrubbery which 
beautified the grounds, gave evidence that wealth 
and taste were not wanting to make this home at- 
tractive. 

A glance within the breakfast room reveals the 
master and mistress. 

The doctor is reading the morning paper to his 
wife, who sits near him, her hands employed with 
some light needle work. 

Mrs. Evert is a woman of perhaps thirty -five 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


21 


years of age. Her face lias lost some of its girlish 
fairness and bloom, but it is a true, lovable face, 
and seems oh, incomparably dearer to Dr. Evert 
than when, repeating the marriage vows, he placed 
his ring upon her finger, believing her the loveliest 
and best woman in the world. 

The doctor is a large man, with benevolent 
face and kindly beaming dark eyes, which are 
often made darker by flashes of mirth. 

Upon the veranda a little girl is playing ; this 
is Flossie Evert, Dr. Evert’s only child. She has 
inherited her father’s dark eyes, sunny disposition, 
and quaint, mirthful ways. 

Seven times have the roses bloomed, dropped, 
and drifted away, since Flossie came to be the 
sunshine of that home. She is an affectionate 
little creature, with a heart full of kindness for 
the whole world; but she is a very fountain of 
tenderness and joy to those she takes into her 
heart of hearts. 

A fair and joyous child is Flossie Evert, and as 
she leaves the veranda now and trips down the 
walk with a quick, bird-like motion, the eye 
naturally follows her with pleased delight. 

Going to the big front gate she unfastens it, and 
mounting it, swings back and forth upon it in a 
way peculiarly delightful to the heart of a child, 
and demoralizing to gates. 

Presently her dark eyes descry a form coming 
leisurely down the road, which will evidently 


22 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


prove a welcome visitor, for her eyes brighten, 
then her face dimples mischievously, and dis- 
mounting in great haste she catches up the corners 
of her tiny white apron, and going to a large rose- 
bush near by, breaks off the fragrant blossoms 
and deposits them in the impromptu basket. 

While she is thus engaged, we will observe the 
person who has attracted her attention. 

He is a young man of about twenty- one years of 
age. He is of medium stature, and walks with 
grace and dignity. His eyes are dark brown, and 
his hair, which ripples away from a broad white 
brow, is a lighter brown, with gleams of gold 
where the sunlight falls upon it. His face has an 
expression of winning frankness, and there is a 
grave, wise sweetness in his smile. As he walks 
along, switching the hedge with a hazel rod, we 
observe that he is faultlessly attired, that his 
hands are white and slender, and his whole ap- 
pearance is suggestive of the gentleman and 
scholar. 

Having thus carefully described him, we will 
add that his name is Homer Atwood ; he is the 
only son of a widowed mother, and is master of 
the fine estate lying south of the village of Ro- 
chester. 

He had observed Flossie swinging on the gate 
and wondered at her sudden disappearance, for it 
was her custom to run to meet him. 

However her presence is quickly revealed, for as 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


23 


lie opens the gate and enters the grounds, Flossie’s 
fair head peeps from behind a rose bush, and one 
of her small hands throws a fragrant missile which 
strikes him in the face. 

A look of surprise, instantly followed by one of 
mirth, flashes across his face, and he stoops to 
pick up the rose. Flossie renews the attack with 
much vigor, and the roses fall around him thick as 
leaves in Yalembrosia. 

By this time Homer has collected some of the 
fragrant ammunition and returns the fire, and the 
battle rages fiercely for awhile, amid peals of 
laughter, and shrieks from Flossie, which attract 
the attention of more than one observer. 

Homer vigorously follows up the charge, and 
routs the enemy, whose ammunition gives out at 
this critical juncture, and she turns to flee ; but he 
overtakes her, and holding both of her small 
hands in one of his, delivers a laughing reproof 
for the reception which she has given him. 

Then tipping his hat back on his head, he stoops 
toward her saying, “Now for my kiss.” 

But Flossie draws back demurely, and says, “ I 
am not going to kiss you any more.” 

“Why not?” says Homer, with a flash of sur- 
prise and amusement in his brown eyes. 

She evidently enjoys his discomfiture, and re- 
plies with a coquettish air, 

“I am getting too old to kiss men and boys.” 

“ Too old ? ” he repeats. “ Why, it is only three 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


24 

days since I was here, and you kissed me then. 
You grow old very fast, Miss Flossie.” 

Her face dimples roguishly ; but she feels that 
an explanation is in order, so she says, 

* “ Cook saw me kiss you the other day, and 
teased me about it, and I ’m not going to kiss you 
any more.” 

“ Very well, then,” he says with mock anger and 
regret, “ if you think more of her words than you 
do of me, just keep your kisses, but remember it 
is very hard on me — that after bestowing kisses on 
me for lo ! these many years, you should stop so 
suddenly.” 

But Flossie is in no mood for sentiment, and she 
pulls him by the hand saying, “ O do come and 
see our little pigs.” 

“Pigs! ” he echoes in mock surprise. “ I talk of 
kisses, and you of pigs ; I thought that you never 
looked at things ‘ common or unclean ; ’ that your 
soul hovered all day over a bed of violets, and at 
might reveled in angelic realms.” 

Flossie is not slow to understand, and she laughs 
mierrily, then says : “ O, do come, they are so 

funny. Sometimes they play they are fighting 
and they do look so cute. The other day I was 
sitting on the fence watching them, and I laughed 
so much that I fell off and hurt my arm, and it 
bled awful hard.” 

“ That was too bad,” said Homer, checking a 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


25 


rising smile, and endeavoring to throw an accent 
of sympathy into his tones. 

“Yes,” Flossie said, with a soft little sigh, 
“ mama said she was not one bit sorry, for it served 
me right for not coming to dinner when I was 
called.” 

To please Flossie he went with her to see the 
pigs, but, much to her chagrin, they were quietly 
resting in the sunshine and could not be induced 
to play, so she and Homer returned to the house. 

Judging by the warm reception which was ac- 
corded him, one would say that he was a frequent 
and welcome visitor. 

After he was seated, Mrs. Evert said : “We 
were witnesses to the contest between you and 
Flossie, and were puzzled to know what became of 
you afterward.” 

“ Flossie insisted that I should go to see the 
pigs,” Homer explained. “ She is a veritable 
Circe, and I consider myself fortunate to have 
escaped the transforming influence of her magic 
wand.” 

Flossie said, brightly, “I know that story ; cousin 
Earl told me about it last summer.” 

Mrs. Evert laughingly added : “And if my mem- 
ory serves me right, you quarreled with him for 
telling you.” 

Flossie tossed her head scornfully. “I don’t care ; 
I don’t like fables anyhow. What’s the use for 
him to tell me great, long stories, and then tell me 


26 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


I must not believe them for they are not true ? ” 
Turning to Homer she added, “ Earl is coming 
next week ; ain’t you glad ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Dr. Evert, addressing Homer, “ it 
will seem quite like old times to have you and 
Earl around again. These vacations are a bless- 
ing to us all. How much longer shall you attend 
school? ” 

“ Two more years,” Homer replied. 

“ Then you will come out a full-fledged minister, 
I suppose ? ” As Homer made no reply to this 
remark, Dr. Evert continued : 

“It has always been a mystery to me that you 
should choose a profession at all. You are rich ; 
why not spend your time looking after your estate 
and playing the country gentleman ? ” 

Homer smilingly replied : “ Like one of old I 

feel that £ Woe is me if I preach not the gospel.’ ” 
Turning to Mrs. Evert he said : “I see that the 
family that has lately moved into the grocery by 
the river has a boy about the age of those in your 
Sunday-school class ; perhaps you can induce him 
to become a member also.” 

“ Do you suppose his parents would allow it?” 
Mrs. Evert inquired. “ They are running a saloon, 
I have been told.” 

“ Yes, that is true, but they might consent for 
him to attend, and if we can get a little of the 
leaven of God’s word introduced there, a change 
may be wrought.” 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


27 


Dr. Evert arose, saying : “ You must excuse me, 
Homer, for leaving now ; it is already later than I 
usually start on my daily rounds. I shall be back 
in time for luncheon, and hope to find you here at 
that time. Meanwhile you and Mrs. Evert can 
discuss this matter, and decide what to do. If 
the boy has any broken bones or other physical 
afflictions, perhaps I can lend you valuable aid; 
but I am not much on religion, you know ; I let 
this little wife of mine do the religious for the 
whole family.” 

Homer earnestly replied, “But you ought to 
realize that your duty to God is a personal matter, 
and of great moment. No one — ” 

But Dr. Evert interposed with a smile and a 
wave of his hand. 

“Don’t, Homer, don’t. I know how you feel. 
When I was studying for my profession I im- 
agined that I could go forth and cure all the ail- 
ments of the people with surpassing skill, and how 
I did long for a patient ! Doubtless you feel the 
same eagerness to test your skill in your profes- 
sion that I did in mine, but I really must protest 
against being your first subject.” 

Homer would not be put off with a jest and a 
smile, so he said very gravely : 

“ Dr. Evert, this is really a serious matter. If 
an earthly sovereign to whom you owed allegiance 
were to offer you his friendship and his love, with 
innumerable blessings, and you were to refuse his 


28 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


offer, and would not even acknowledge his exist- 
ence, would you not expect to incur his wrath ? 
Take heed that you offend not the King of kings. 
He unto whom belongetli all dominion, comes to 
you now in the attitude of a suppliant ; remem- 
ber that it will not always be so.” 

Dr. Evert hesitated a moment, then said : u Ex- 
cuse me, Homer, for speaking lightly of your pro- 
fession. While I try to do my duty bravely and 
well in my profession, I realize that there is a 
great difference between being a physician and a 
minister of the gospel. Good-bye now, I shall see 
you again soon.” And with a bow and a smile to 
Mrs. Evert and Homer, and a kiss pressed upon 
the lips of his little daughter, Dr. Evert went away 
to his daily round of duties. 

That afternoon Homer Atwood was driving 
through the village on his way to the city ; and 
when passing near the depot was accosted by a 
friend and stopped for a few minutes’ conversation. 

Several persons stood upon the platform or 
lounged about the depot. 

Standing apart from the others, and evidently 
waiting for the evening train, were a boy and girl, 
who instantly attracted Homer’s attention. The 
persons referred to were Archie and 'Edna Carlisle, 
the former of whom Homer recognized as the boy 
of whom he had spoken to Mrs. Evert. 

Edna was standing with her back toward Homer ' 
and he could not see her face, but he observed that 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


29 


she was neatly though plainly dressed, and that a 
womanly dignity characterized her manner. 

In a short time the train arrived, and bidding 
Archie a tearful good-bye, Edna took her seat in 
the car, and as the train moved swiftly away she 
leaned out of the window and tossed many kisses 
to her brother, who stood upon the platform. 

Homer had a full view of Edna’s face at this 
moment, and he caught his breath with an exclam- 
ation of surprise and pleasure. 

"When the train had completely passed from 
view, Archie turned away and began the long 
walk toward his home. In a few minutes Homer 
resumed his journey, and when but a short distance 
from the village overtook the boy, who was walk- 
ing slowly and sadly along the dusty highway. 

Never in all his life had Archie felt so utterly 
forlorn. Edna was the one gleam of sunshine in 
his clouded life, and now that she was gone, the 
way seemed inexpressibly dark and dreary. 

Bravely struggling to keep back the tears, he 
walked slowly toward his joyless home. 

He heard the sound of the passing vehicle, but 
did not look up until a kind voice accosted him, 
and proffered a seat in the buggy. 

Looking up now, all of his native timidity dis- 
appeared beneath Homer’s kindly beaming eyes, 
and Archie accepted the favor with a sense of 
pleasure. 

There was a winning frankness in Homer’s face 


30 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


and smile; and forgetting the shortness of their 
acquaintance, Archie was soon talking with his 
new found friend in a manner devoid of all re- 
straint. 

He was so sad and lonely, so entirely com- 
panionless, what wonder if he found it a relief to 
speak of the desolateness of his existence, when 
sympathy was so freely offered him. 

It did not take long for one of Homer’s quick in- 
tuition to understand the sadness of the boy’s life, 
or to see that he shrank with pain and humiliation 
from reference to his home or parents. 

At last Homer said : “ I foresee that we are go- 

ing to be friends, so I mast inquire your name?” 

“ It is Archie Carlisle.” 

“ Then it is not your father who keeps the store ? 
That is not the name on the sign I think.” 

“No, he is my step-father. My father died 
eight years ago.” 

“ Was your father a druggist ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Ah, I understand now why your sister’s face 
impressed me so. She closely resembles her fath- 
er. I saw him quite often when I was a boy. I 
had no personal acquaintance with him, but I am 
something of a physiognomist, and by my memory 
of him I should say that he was a father of 
whom you may well be proud.” 

Archie’s face was glowing as he replied : 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


31 


“ Grandma says my father was loved and honored 
by all who knew him.” 

“Then cherish his memory,” said Homer. 
“ While ‘ honor and shame from no condition rise,’ 
it is a blessed thing to be able to say, my father 
was a true and honorable man, and I will follow 
his example.” 

By this time they had reached Archie’s home, 
and Homer bid the boy a kind good-bye, little 
realizing how much of brightness his sympathy 
had cast into a way which was all tdo deeply 
shadowed. 


32 * 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER III. 

“ THE GRIEF UNSPOKEN WHISPERS THE O’ER- 
FRAUGHT HEART AND BIDS IT BREAK.” 

“ Think ye the notes of holy songs, 

On Milton’s tuneful ear have died? 

Think ye that Raphael’s angel throng 
Has vanished from his side? 

The tissue of the life to be 
We weave in colors all our own, 

And in the field of destiny 
We reap, as we have sown.” 

It has been wisely said, “ The heart seldom 
weighs with conscious care a burden always 
borne.” Archie had, in a measure, become ac- 
customed to his joyless life, and when cheered by 
his sister’s sympathy could bear the many ills of 
his existence with fortitude. But after her depart- 
ure his life stretched before him like as an arid 
desert, in which no purling streams sparkled in 
the sunlight, no green shrub grew, no birds sang ; 
only a measureless waste of sand, beat upon by a 
torrid sun which crushed out life and hope. 

] Mrs. Slater’s mother had invited both the chil- 
dren to spend the summer with her, but only Edna 
was permitted to accept the invitation, as Archie’s 
help was deemed too valuable to be spared. 

A few acres of ground belonged to their little 
cottage, and to Archie was assigned the task of 
their cultivation. Early and late, during the long, 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


38 


hot summer days, the hoy might have been seen 
constantly laboring to accomplish the task which 
ill befitted one of his tender years, or delicate 
form. 

Even wearisome toil may be cheerfully borne, if 
the tired worker may rest in the eventide, cheered 
by the sympathy of loved ones. But no kind 
voice or loving smile cheered Archie when his 
day’s work was over ; his life was desolate, com- 
panionless, and inexpressibly dreary. 

We would not have the reader suppose that Mrs. 
Slater was habitually unkind to her children. She 
was naturally of an affectionate disposition, and 
under other circumstances would have been a 
devoted mother. Her marriage to Mr. Slater em- 
bittered her life. In a few short years she saw her 
home, and all the comforts which had surrounded 
her, disappear, only to be replaced by pinching 
poverty, and the echoes of ribald laughter from 
the revelers in the bar-room. 

She saw her children poorly clad and unkindly 
treated by their step-father, and she shrank from 
their presence, for their sad faces seemed to look 
at her with mute reproach. 

Her husband constantly tempted her with the 
steaming bowl, until she also acquired the evil 
thirst, and was glad to hide the one wild regret of 
her burdened heart in the partial oblivion sup- 
plied by intoxicants. The stimulant wrought upon 
her nervous system and made her very irritable. 

3 


34 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


When sober she never spoke unkindly to the chil- 
dren, but she was too weak and yielding by 
nature, to defend them from the cruel blows 
which her brutul husband often inflicted upon 
them; and though she wept in secret over their 
abuse, she never spoke to them of the matter, or 
evinced her sympathy in any manner, for at such 
times her heart was wild with pain and regret, 
and she could not bear to meet their innocent eyes 
which seemed to silently upbraid her for the sor- 
row which she had brought upon them. 

So more and more she yielded to the influence of 
the intoxicating glass ; and her perceptive facul- 
ties became numb, and her mother love grew cold, 
as she glided down the dark road of degradation 
and despair. 

At last a ray of brightness shone athwart 
Archie’s path; Mr. Slater yielded an ungracious 
consent to the oft-repeated solicitations of Homer 
Atwood, and permitted Archie to attend the Sun- 
day-school which was held in the little white 
school lmuse near his home. 

He became a member of Mrs. Evert’s class, and 
4she and Homer took such a genuine interest in the 
boy, that he was made to feel that some one cared 
for him, and life assumed a less sombre hue. 

Mrs. Evert soon felt a deep interest in Archie ; 
he seemed so sad for one so young, and coupled 
with his air of intelligence was so much gentle 
ness and timidity, that she longed to take the 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


35 


forlorn child to her kind heart, and shield him 
from the storms of life. 

She spoke of him so often that she finally enlist- 
ed the sympathies of her husband in Archie’s be- 
half ; and they decided that if they could gain the 
consent of the boy’s parents, he should find a 
peaceful home at Evert Place, and would at least 
be provided with the means of obtaining a good 
education. 

Believing that Mrs. Slater would be glad to ac- 
cept such advantages for her son, Dr. Evert called 
upon her, and in a very kind spirit, unfolded to 
her the object of his visit. She was partially in- 
toxicated, and the offer seemed to her almost like 
an insult. She so indignantly spurned the propo- 
sition that Dr. Evert became seriously offended 
and went home in a state of great indignation, and 
told Mrs. Evert that it would be many a day be- 
fore she would get him to go on such a fool’s 
errand again ; for his part he was glad they were 
not permitted to take the boy, for he must be a 
young villain, after having lived so long in such a 
hornet’s nest. 

Mrs. Evert was deeply grieved at the result of 
the Doctor’s visit, especially when, as time passed 
on, she found that Archie was no longer permitted 
to attend Sunday-school. She was cut off from all 
communication with him, but Homer Atwood often 
sought the boy out when he was working in the 
field, and manifested an earnest desire to make 


36 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


his life more pleasant. Yet it was very little that 
any one could do. From the manner in which Dr. 
Evert’s offer had been resented, Homer felt sure 
that any pecuniary benefits which might be be- 
stowed upon the boy would incur the displeasure 
of his parents, even if Archie himself would accept 
them, which seemed doubtful, as he was very sen- 
sitive, and seemed reluctant to accept a favor, 
though it were proffered in the most delicate man- 
ner. At last Homer’s vacation drew to a close ; 
before leaving, however, he had a long talk with 
Archie, who was deeply grieved that he must give 
up his one friend. 

Taking from his pocket a little red Bible, Homer 
presented it to Archie, saying: “I am sorry to 
part from you, Archie, but the friendships of earth 
are constantly darkened by the cloud of separa- 
tion. If you will believe and obey the teachings 
of this book you will gain the friendship of One 
from whom nothing can separate you. One who 
in joy or sorrow, life or death, will be constantly 
beside you to comfort you with his love and sym- 
pathy.” 

Then with a fervent clasp of the hand and a 
whispered “God bless you,” Homer turned away 
and soon passed out of sight. 

With heaving bosom and tear- dimmed eyes 
Archie opened the book which had been his 
friend’s parting gift. 

On the fly-leaf was written, in a clear round hand, 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 


37 


“ Presented to Archie Carlisle, 

By Homer Atwood,” 

and beneath were these words : 

4 44 This little book I'd rather own 
Than all the gold and gems 
That e’er in monarch’s crown were seen, 

Than all their diadems. 

4 44 Hay, were the vast ocean a crystal, 

This earth a golden ball, 

And diamonds all the stars of night, 

This book were worth them all.” ’ 

A few days later Archie’s heart was made glad 
by his sister’s return. Even Mrs, Slater’s becloud- 
ed brain felt the brightening influence of the girl’s 
presence, and gladly welcomed her back to their 
miserable home. 

While absent, Edna had been well supplied 
with clothing by her grandmother’s kindly hand. 
Mrs. Slater’s mother was a widow, and her only 
means of support was the rent of a few rooms 
which she let to lodgers ; but the lonely woman had 
taken great pleasure in using her scanty hoards to 
supply her lovely grandchild with bright, warm 
dresses. 

Each day the girl grew more beautiful ; and it 
was with a feeling of pardonable pride in his 
lovely sister, that Archie walked by her side to the 
school house the first day of the term. 

Their hearts were beating high with hope, for 
they had a natural craving for learning ; and in 


38 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


their discussions of the subject had decided that 
through increase of knowledge a path would open 
up to them out of the shame and degradation of 
their present surroundings. 

When recess came, and Archie and Edna went 
into the play ground, they were received very un- 
kindly by the other scholars, who had often heard 
their parents speak in tones of condemnation of 
the saloon keeper and his family, and the children 
were not disposed to treat Archie and Edna as 
their equals. 

When Archie timidly approached a group of 
boys, he was greeted with the cry of “ Whiskey ! 
Whiskey ! ” and unkind remarks about his well 
worn clothes, which caused the blood to rush pain- 
fully into his face. A less sensitive boy would, 
perhaps, have braved it out, and might eventually 
have won their friendship and respect. But 
Archie was glad to retreat into the school-room, to 
be free from their scornful faces and taunting 
voices. 

Edna fared better among the girls, if to repre- 
sent vacancy be considered better. In a few 
minutes, with tearful eyes and quivering lips, 
she followed her brother into the school-room, and 
never again did they try to pass the invisible 
boundary which separated them from other chil- 
dren. 

The sins of the father had been visited upon the 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


3& 


children, and the parents eating sour grapes had 
put the children’s teeth on edge. 

In the early part of the winter Mrs. Evert went 
to visit some relatives, and before leaving she 
begged her husband to watch over Archie during 
her absence, and improve every opportunity to 
contribute to the boy’s comfort and happiness. 

The unkind reception which Dr. Evert’s previous 
overture had met with did not create in his mind 
a desire to visit the boy’s home again, and as they 
had never met, the matter gradually faded away 
from the doctor’s memory. 

The winter was one of severe cold, and Archie 
was sadly in need of clothing to protect him from 
the rude blasts ; his shoes were so much worn that 
his stockingless feet protruded through the holes > 
and one morning he went to school through a deep 
sjiow on which a hard crust had formed, and his 
poor, frost-bitten feet were cut by the icy snow, 
until he might have been tracked by the blood 
which flowed from the wounds. (Reader, this is 
no fancy sketch ; the writer of this saw his bleed- 
ing feet and the blood-stained snow where he had 
trod). 

The poor boy would have been glad to hide his 
misery from his school-fellows, but they did not 
laugh now; this was external suffering , and they 
began to pity him. 

They had not meant to be unkind, but they did 


40 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


not stop to think that it was through no fault of 
his that he was obliged to dress so poorly. 

About this time Dr. Evert received a letter from 
his wife in which she inquired about Archie, and 
begged her husband to do all he could to con- 
tribute to the poor child’s happiness. 

The doctor had seldom thought of the boy since 
Mrs. Evert left, but being reminded now he called 
one day at Archie’s home and found him very ill. 
He had taken a severe cold and was suffering very 
much with sore throat. Nothing had been done to 
relieve him, for Edna knew nothing of nursing the 
sick, and Mrs. Slater and her husband were both 
intoxicated. 

Dr. Evert was very angry when he saw how the 
boy had been mistreated. While he respected 
the moderate drinker, he despised a drunkard, 
and a drunken woman seemed to him the most re- 
pulsive sight on earth. 

Dr. Evert called on Archie every day until he 
recovered. He also gave the boy a warm suit 
of clothes, and saw that he was well provided for 
in every respect against the inclemencies of the 
winter. But, alas ! the seeds of disease which had 
been sown in his system by exposure, were too 
deeply rooted to be easily eradicated. 

Early in the spring Mrs. Evert returned home ; 
and it was with eyes full of unshed tears that she 
looked at the boy. He seemed but a shadow of 


<r s 

OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 41 

the Archie she had bidden good-bye a few months 
before. 

Dr. Evert told his wife of the sufferings of the 
boy during the winter, and her heart ached at the 
recital all the more because she knew it was only 
one instance of cruelty out of thousands, caused 
by intemperance. 

With the coming of the warm spring weather, 
Archie experienced a great weariness of body, and 
dizzy headaches, which boded no good. At last 
he was taken ill at school, and was obliged to go 
home. He had a severe chill ; so severe, indeed, 
that it would have struck terror to the heart of a 
loving mother ; but Mrs. Slater’s beclouded brain 
scarcely comprehended that the child was ill. 

Edna had obtained the teacher’s permission to 
accompany her brother home, and all day she sat 
beside him, pale and frightened at his suffering. 
When his fever came on and he raved in delirium, 
the poor girl knew not what to do ; but she staid 
faithfully beside him all night, bathing his fevered 
brow ; aye, and weeping too, because he had no 
loving mother to care for him. 

The next day Archie was unable to attend 
school, and his inability to do so grieved him 
deeply ; for it was nearing the end of the term, 
and he had every prospect of winning a valuable 
prize which had been offered. 

As he was about to retire in the evening, his 
step-father said to him : 


42 


EDXA CARLISLE; 


“ Your mother and I are going to town in the 
morning to buy goods to replenish the stock, and 
you will have to stay at home and take charge of 
the store in our absence.” 

The boy gave one weary, hunted look, and 
then said quietly : 

“I will stay; but you must not expect me to 
wait on customers at the bar.” 

“Why not?” Mr. Slater inquired, w T itli rising 
anger. 

“Because I believe it is a sin,” said Archie 
bravely. 

The curses that fell from the man’s lips made 
the boy shudder ; but with a grand heroism he an- 
swered : 

“I will not do what I believe is a sin.” 

The brutal man snatched a beer glass and threw 
it at Archie ; fortunately for the boy, for ohce the 
man was so drunk that he could not throw straight 
and the result was a crashing of crystal close to 
the boy’s head. 

“ Now go to bed,” shouted the angry man. “ To- 
morrow you ’ll do as I bid you or I ’ll make you 
wish you were dead.” 

Archie crept away to bed, but not to sleep. Yet 
he did not feel afraid ; all sense of fear seemed 
dead in him ; everything appeared confused and 
dim except his faith in Christ, and hope of Heav- 
en. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 43 

CHAPTER IV. 

“to live in hearts we leave behind is not 

TO DIE.” 

“ Oh I many are the mansions there, 

But not in one hath grief a share.” 

Archie spent a sleepless night, for with such 
an aching head and sorrowful heart, to repose 
seemed impossible. 

At last in the gray dawn of the morning he 
fell asleep, murmuring softly: “Though I walk 
through the valley and shadow of death Thou wilt 
be with me.” 

Ah, dear child, it is well that you can feel the 
presence of the orphan’s God. No other heart is 
throbbing in sympathy with your sufferings. Your 
mother, who should be bending over your pillow 
in an agony of love and grief, is lying yonder 
in a drunken slumber, alike careless and uncon- 
scious of her child’s pain and sorrow. Archie 
had not slept long when he was rudely awakened 
by his step-father, who shook him roughly and 
shouted : 

“Get up, you lazy bones. The cow has gone 
off, and you ’ll have to hunt her up. Come back 
as quick as you can, for we are going to town, 
and you’ll have to tend store. And mark my 


44 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


words, if you don’t sell the customers whatever 
they want, I ’ll half kill you ! ” 

He went away muttering curses ; and Archie 
slowly arose from the bed. 

He had a blinding pain in his head, and his 
limbs trembled and felt so weak that he could 
hardly stand. With trembling fingers he dressed 
himself, wondering in a dim, unreasoning way, if 
his step-father really believed he could walk. 

Edna had not awakened yet. As Archie passed 
through the dining-room his mother was preparing 
the table for their morning meal. 

She looked at him in surprise, saying, “ Archie, 
are you sick?” 

That kindly inquiry touched the heart of the 
desolate child, and struggling to repress his 
tears, he bowed his head, unable to control his 
voice. 

There was a piteous, appealing look in his 
eyes that roused her mother love, and she re- 
solved to shield him from the cruelty of her 
husband. Then the old timidity overcame her. 
What could she do ? He was stronger than she, 
and nothing but brute force could restrain him 
from having his own way. Any interference that 
she could offer would only serve to subject the 
child to further abuse. 

As these thoughts passed rapidly through her 
mind, she passed her arm caressingly around the 
boy, saying gently : 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


45 


“ I am sorry, dear. I would help you if I could ; 
but I think that you will feel better when you get 
out into the fresh air.” 

Archie crept out of the house, sobbing pite- 
ously. He hardly knew where he was going, but 
with great suffering and staggering with weakness, 
he toiled on until he was about a mile from home ; 
then he began to chill. His pain overcame his 
timidity, and seeing a little cottage near by, he 
went to the door and begged to be allowed to sit 
by the fire. 

Mrs Lawrence — the good woman of the house — 
was frightened by the blue, pinched look of the 
boy’s face, and his evident suffering. 

She wrapped him in blankets, and seated him in 
an easy chair by the kitchen fire ; doing everything 
she could think of to relieve him. 

The fire felt so good, and her sympathy seemed 
so sweet, but he dared not sit long. 

“Oh, I must go and look for the cow,” he 
wailed. 

“ No, you’ll not ! ” said the little woman decid- 
edly. “ You’ll stay right where you are until 
my husband comes home at noon, and he will take 
you home to your mother.” 

A wailing sound broke from the boy’s lips. 
Other children had mothers to take care of them 
when they were sick, but he was worse than moth- 
erless. Thinking thus bitterly he began to sob in 
such a piteous manner, that Mrs. Lawrence wept 


46 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


in sympathy with him, although she did not know 
the true cause of his grief. 

In a short time he was suffering with a raging 
fever, and when they put him in the carriage to 
take him home he seemed unconscious of his sur- 
roundings. 

Mr. Slater and his wife had gone to town, leav- 
ing Edna in charge, with the expectation that 
Archie would speedily return. 

When Mr. Lawrence arrived with the sick boy 
and found that there was no one at home capable 
of taking care of the sufferer, he immediately went 
for Dr. Evert. 

The doctor was absent, and on learning who the 
sick person was, Mrs. Evert instructed the servant 
to tell Dr. Evert as soon as he returned home, and 
in a short time she was at the bedside of the sick 
boy. 

Archie’s mind was wandering and he did not 
recognize Mrs. Evert, but kept talking all the time 
in a troubled way, sometimes imploring some one 
not to hurt him, and again shrieking in terror from 
an imaginary blow. 

In a short time Dr. Evert arrived, and after mak 
ing an examination, he looked at his weeping wife 
ar\d said : 

“Do not grieve so, Nellie ; your little friend will 
soon be beyond all suffering. He has had a con- 
gestive chill ; all that I can now do is to deaden 
the pain.” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


47 


Shortly after taking the medicine Archie became 
more quiet, and finally recognized Mrs. Evert. 

“ Oh, Wilfred ! ” she joyfully exclaimed, “ I be- 
lieve that you are mistaken. See, he seems bet- 
ter.” 

“ Yes, dear, he is easier,” said the doctor gently. 
“ However, I do not believe that he has an hour to 
live.” 

Mrs. Evert shrank as if from a blow ; then she 
said faintly, “He should know this.” 

Approaching the bed and laying her cool hand 
upon the boy’s forehead, she said : “ Archie, you 
are not afraid to die ? ” 

An expression of intense agony swept over his 
face, and his eyes rested upon his sister with a 
look of unutterable sorrow, as thoughts of love, 
and fear, and buried hopes swept through his 
mind. 

In a feeble voice he said : “ I wanted to live to 
take Edna away from here. I thought that when 
we grew older we could go away and be so happy 
together.” 

“ Leave her with the God of the fatherless,” said 
Mrs. Evert. He never yet failed those who put 
their trust in him, and he will raise up friends for 
your sister. Could you trust her to me, Archie ? ” 

A look of intense joy swept across his face, and 
he said : “It would not be so hard to die if I knew 
that she will be happy.” 

“Ho not leave me, Archie ! ” Edna cried in wild 


48 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


alarm, as she kissed the dear face upon which 
death was fast leaving its impress. “ Don’t leave 
me, I can never he happy without you.” 

A spasm of anguish passed over his face, and he 
was silent for a moment, then he said : “ Oh, it is 
so hard to die and leave you ; hut I will give you 
my Bihle ; if you will live as it teaches we will he 
happy together yet.” 

He closed his eyes and his hreath came faintly. 

“ Almost gone,” said Dr. Evert. 

Archie opened his eyes and said: “ Tell mother 
I won the prize.” 

They thought his mind wandered, hut he added : 
“ Not the school prize — the other one — the crown 
of life.” 

Looking at Mrs. Evert, he said faintly, “ Sing — 
‘ When — Jesus — comes.’ ” The words died away in 
a whisper. 

She stooped and kissed him, then with the tears 
silently flowing down her cheeks, 'she sang the 
words that were so precious to him. So with the 
last look resting on the beloved face, and the 
music of the dear voice in his ears, his freed spirit 
took its flight. 

‘ Dr. Evert was deeply affected. He had wit- 
nessed many death, scenes, hut nothing had ever 
touched his feelings so before. 

With tearful eyes he composed the form of the 
dead. This sad office had scarcely been per- 
formed when the rumble of wheels was heard. 


OR, ELOSSIE^S TIOLET. 


49 


It stopped at the door; then they heard Mr. 
Slater and his wife .engaged in angry dispute. 

Stepping softly across the room, Dr. Evert en- 
tered the store room to meet Mrs. Slater. A look 
of alarm passed over her face when she saw him. 

He gave her a chair, saying : 

“ Sit down a moment, Mrs. Slater, I have some- 
thing to say to yon.’ 9 

She sat down, hut kept looking at him in a won- 
dering way. 

Dr. Evert inquired : ’“Did you know when you 
left this morning that Archie was very sick ? ” 

Her face grew pale, and she replied : “No, I 
knew he was not well, hut thought his indisposi- 
tion nothing more serious than a headache, which 
would soon wear off. My hushand sent Archie on 
an <errand. I dared not interfere; I would only 
have brought more trouble on the child by so 
doing.” 

Then looking up at Dr. Evert’s stern, sad face, 
she seemed to realize for the first time that some- 
thing alarming had occurred. 

She sprang up exclaiming, “Do you mean that 
anything serious has happened to my child?” 

Dr. Evert silently pointed to the room where the 
dead boy lay, so cold and quiet, “ after life’s fitful 
fever.” 

She opened the door and looked in. 

Edna was sobbing on Mrs. Evert’s bosom. Rusli- 
4 


50 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


ing to the side of the dead boy, Mrs. Slater put 
her hand upon his brow, as though unwilling to 
trust the evidence of sight. The cold, dead face, 
seemed to strike a chill to her heart, and throwing 
up her arms, with a low cry of horror, she fell 
heavily to the floor. 

******* 

And now, we must ask our readers to look with 
us upon a very different scene. 

Upon the veranda of a beautiful house, a lady 
and little girl are seated. Both are dressed in 
white, and between them is a basket of flowers 
from which, from time to time, the little girl 
selects one and gives it to the lady, who weaves it 
into the wreath which she is making. 

The persons are Mrs. Evert and Flossie, and the 
wreath is a floral tribute to be laid on Archie’s 
coffin. 

Mrs. Evert’s fair face wore an expression of pen- 
sive sadness. Her husband stood awhile, quiet-ly 
regarding them ; finally he came and seated him- 
self beside them, saying : 

“ Why do you take the boy’s death so to heart, 
Nellie? He is better off.” 

She glanced at him quickly, and replied : 

“ That is true. * Nevertheless, he might have 
had a happy home and become a good and useful 
man, if the evil of intemperance had not cheated 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


51 


him of his birthright. Is it not your opinion that 
he would be alive now if he had been properly 
cared for ? ” 

“ Certainly. His system became debilitated by 
exposure last winter, and this sickness followed as 
a natural result. No medical aid was called, and 
now he is lying there, cold and silent ; a martyr to 
parental [neglect.” 

u Caused by intemperance,” Mrs. Evert added. 

“His mother is naturally an intelligent and 
kindly woman ; but, alas ! intemperance steals 
away the best qualities of head and heart.” 

Dr. Evert replied, “ Well, Nellie, I begin to re- 
gard intemperance much as you do. And I prom- 
ise you that I will never again drink anything 
which intoxicates. And I will place a monument 
at Archie’s grave, partly to his memory, and also 
as a reminder of my resolution.” 

Mrs. Evert arose, — tears were streaming down 
her cheeks. 

“Oh! Wilfred,” she exclaimed, “I am so glad! 
But do not stop there. 4 The arm of flesh will fail 
you.’ Do not trust it. Confess the Savior, and 
put him on, in his own appointed way. Then you 
have the promise that your prayers will be an- 
swered, and he will uphold you in time of trial 
and temptation ; and you 4 shall come off conquer- 
or, and more than conqueror, through him that 
loved us, and gave himself for us.’ ” 

44 Heaven bless you, darling,” said Dr. Evert? 


52 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


with visible emotion. “ You shall worry no more 
about me. I will accept God’s offer of love and 
mercy ere it is everlastingly too late.” 

****** 

That afternoon, as the sun was sinking in the 
west, the body of Archie Carlisle was laid in the 
grave. 

“ To die is but landing on some silent shore, 

Where billows never break, nor tempests roar, 

Ere well we feel the friendly stroke, ’tis o’er.” 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


53 


CHAPTER V. 

A CHANGE FOR EDNA. 

Summer in the country. Who that has ever en- 
joyed it can forget it? Oh, how our heart stirs 
and brings back the glad feelings of our child- 
hood, as we remember the scenes of long ago, and 
the dear old highway along which, with a lunch 
basket on our arm, we trudged to school, singing 
as we went; pausing ever and anon to look for a 
bird’s nest in the hedge-row, or to gather the wild 
roses that grew by the roadside. Ah, happy the 
childhood that is spent among such pure and 
lovely scenes. 

Along this road a carriage is rapidly whirling ; 
in it is seated a lady, dressed in silver grey, with 
a cluster of roses at her throat. Her eyes are 
taking in every beauty of scene, and her sweet 
face tells of a soul at peace with God and man. 

It was the morning succeeding the burial of 
Archie. Mrs. Evert was going to visit his mother, 
and, if possible, induce her to give Edna into her 
care. 

Of the little girl she had seen very little, but 
her lovely, intelligent face, and almost womanly 
sweetness of manner, had made a lasting impres- 
sion on Mrs. Evert’s kind heart ; and she shudder- 
ed when she thought what was likely to be the 


54 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


fate of the beautiful girl if reared among such 
degrading surroundings. 

“Oh, God!” she prayed, “incline the heart of 
this mother, that I may be permitted to train this 
lovely girl in ways of peace and holiness.” 

Having arrived at her destination, she passed 
through a side gate, around to the rear of the 
building, where she knew the living rooms of the 
family were situated. 

As she approached the door, she saw Mrs. Slater 
lying on a bed in the room, her sad face plainly 
showing how remorse was gnawing at her heart. 
Edna was standing at her mother’s bedside, plead- 
ing with her to take some nourishment. 

On seeing their visitor Mrs. Slater burst into 
tears. 

“ You have been as God’s good angel to us,” 
she said, “and I would not heed you. If I had 
given my boy into your care, doubtless he would 
have grown up to an honorable manhood, and 
would have taken Edna and me away from this 
place of shame and degradation. But now he is 
dead! Oh! it is horrible! horrible! It seems to 
me sometimes that I shall go wild when I try to 
realize what has occurred. 

“I know that his life was lost through my 
neglect. I know that I have become lower than 
the beasts of the field, for they care for their 
young ; and I — Oh, God ! to think that I promised 


or, Flossie’s violet. 55 

their dying father that I would be kind to his 
children.” 

The miserable woman was shaken from head to 
foot by the intensity of her emotion, and believing 
that it would be a relief to her to speak of her 
past life, Mrs. Evert said : “ Is it long since their 

father died? Tell me something of your former 
life.” 

After a moment’s silence, Mrs. Slater replied : 

“ I will, but mine is not an uncommon story. 
My early years, as far as I remember, were full of 
sunshine. I was the only child of my parents, 
who, with loving zeal, shielded me from all the 
storms of life. When I was about fifteen years 
old my father died, leaving mother and me alone 
in the world, with no possessions beside the little 
cottage we called home. Being thrown upon our 
own resources to earn a living, mother took in fine 
needle-work, and I was apprenticed to a dress- 
maker. I soon mastered the art, for which I had 
a natural liking ; and as I was strong and healthy, 
I felt it no hardship to work for my living. Oh, 
life was so different then, before I knew what sin 
and sorrow meant ! 

“When I was eighteen years old, I made the 
acquaintance of Oscar Carlisle. He was so noble 
and true, he soon won my love. Edna looks like 
him ; she has the same fair complexion, the same 
dark blue eyes and jet black hair. He was not 
what the world calls rich, but he was engaged in 


56 


EDNA CARLISLE , 


a prosperous mercantile business, and at our mar- 
riage installed me as mistress of a beautiful little 
home which was overshadowed by no cloud until 
the time of his sickness and death. Oh, he was 
so noble, so truly great in mind and heart, and 
withal so gentle and loving, and I wonder now 
how it is possible, that after having been loved by 
him, I could sink as low as I have since his 
death.” The poor woman paused, overcome by 
painful memories. 

Mr. Slater had been drinking and playing cards 
with a man in an adjoining room ; and now their 
voices were raised in angry altercation. 

Mrs. Evert looked at Edna. The girlish face- 
which she had remarked at the funeral as being- 
so white and cold was flushed now, and there was. 
a shimmer of tears on her long black lashes. 

She appeared quite unconscious of the sounds 
coming from the saloon, but listened with her soul 
in her eyes, while her mother spoke of the father 
whom she could scarcely remember. 

Presently Mrs. Slater resumed, in a low tone: 
“He was a true Christian, and he used to plead 
with me to become one, but I would not. When 
he was dying he said to me, 4 Dear little wife, I 
shall leave you now, never to return ; but I charge 
you — meet me in Heaven, bringing my children 
with you.’ And I promised. Oh! how have I 
kept that promise ! 

“After his death I sold his business and com 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


57 ' 


tlrmed to live in our little home. In about two- 
years I was married to Mr. Slater. He was a fine 
looking man then; I was deceived as to his real 
character, and that disappointment has embittered 
my whole life. In a few years we were reduced to 
our present condition of poverty, and overcome 
with grief, I began trying to drown my trouble in 
drink. Well, I went from bad to worse, until I 
became what you see me now, the most miserable 
woman on the face of the earth, a mother whose 
culpable carelessness has occasioned the death of 
her child.” 

Sitting up in bed and raising an arm, Mrs. 
Slater exclaimed : 

“ Bear witness that I swear before God never to 
let another drop of the accursed poison pass be- 
tween my lips.” 

Then casting her arms about Edna, she exclaim- 
ed, with tears streaming down her cheeks, “Oh, 
my darling ! my darling ! How am I to raise you 
up to be a good, true woman, as your father wish- 
ed, if you remain in such a place as this? Oh, 
Oscar! why did you die and leave us to such a 
fate ? ” 

The wretched woman wept until she was utterly 
exhausted; and Mrs. Evert, with a heart full of 
pity for the grief- stricken creature, did all she 
could to comfort her. Finally Mrs. Evert said : 

“ Could you trust your child to me ? I would 
care for her precisely as if she were my own 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


58 

daughter ; and I feel sure that she would grow up 
a good and noble woman.” 

At first Mrs. Slater seemed pleased with the 
proposition. Then her pale lips moaned : 

“ To part with both my children at one stroke ! 
Oh, God! ‘my punishment is greater than I can 
bear ! 5 Oh, I can not do it ! ” 

Mrs. Evert said: “ Think well before you re- 
fuse. Edna will be near you, where you can see 
her often ; and remember, if you had let me have 
Archie you would have no cause for remorse now.” 

It seemed almost cruel to say this to the grief- 
stricken woman, but Mrs. Evert felt as if she were 
striving for the soul of the beautiful girl who stood 
between them, her eyes hidden by long black 
lashes., and her face as white as snow. 

Sighing heavily, Mrs. Slater said: “What do 
you say, Edna? Will you go to live with Mrs. 
Evert?” 

The girl did not look up, but replied in a falter- 
ing voice : 

“ It shall be as you wish, Mother.” 

At that moment Mr. Slater staggered into the 
apartment, with an oath upon his lips. He had 
evidently been listening to their conversation. 

Uttering a terrible oath, he said: “No, you will 
not give her up. I intend she shall be bar-maid 
when she gets a little older. The girl is a beauty, 
and her pretty face will draw lots of custom.” 

Mrs. Evert arose, trembling with indignation. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 59 

“ Do you not realize, sir,” she exclaimed, “that 
the God in whom this child’s father trusted will 
mete out to you a swift and terrible punishment if 
you do this thing?” 

He cowered a moment beneath the wrath of her 
dashing eyes and indignant face. Then with 
drunken brutality he strode across the room, and 
appeared about to strike her, but was held in 
check by her fearless mien. 

“ Get out of this house ! ” he shouted, “ and 
never set your foot in here again, or it will be the 
worse for you ! ” 

“I will go,” she said; “you certainly have the 
right to order whom you will out of your house. 
But I warn you, be careful how you treat this 
child, for the day will soon come when you shall 
be called upon to give an account of your actions, 
to the God of heaven and earth.” 

As Mrs. Evert was entering her carriage to re- 
turn home, Edna came running out, and said in a 
low tone : 

“ Mother bade me say to you that she will give 
you an answer to-morrow.” 

Having delivered her message, she was return- 
ing with fleet footsteps to the house, but was inter- 
cepted by Slater, who had staggered out after her. 
With an angry ejaculation he struck her a violent 
blow in the face, which sent her reeling against 
the building. 

With a piercing scream Mrs. Slater bounded 


60 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


from the bed, and was soon standing between the 
drunken man and her child, receiving blows which 
would otherwise have fallen upon the tender tiesh 
of the little girl. 

Mrs. Evert looked helplessly up the road and 
saw a farmer coming leisurely along. She has- 
tened to meet him, and after imploring him to go 
to Mrs. Slater’s assistance, she drove home as fast 
as possible, and arrived there in an almost faint- 
ing condition, frightening the servants terribly by 
her white face and trembling form. Hers was a 
nature strong to endure where she could render as- 
sistance, but unable to stand helplessly by and see 
others suffer. 

The next day was passed in considerable anx- 
iety by Mrs. Evert. She had been anxious before 
to receive the little girl into her care, because she 
felt that by so doing she would render God service* 
but now, added to that interest, was the tender 
sympathy she felt for the lovely child who had 
borne all so uncomplainingly. 

As the day began to wear away Mrs. Evert grew 
impatient, as no word was received concerning the 
subject uppermost in her thoughts. 

She could not sit quietly indoors, so she began 
to pace restlessly back and forth upon the long 
veranda, scanning with eager eyes the direction 
from which the expected message should come. 

At last, as the sun was declining, a woman’s fig- 
ure was seen wearily toiling up the hill toward the 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


61 


house. It needed no second glance from Mrs. 
Evert to assure her it was Mrs. Slater, although 
she was much changed in appearance from what 
she had been a week previously. 

Her intemperate habits had been wearing upon 
her system all spring. Then came the shock of 
Archie’s death, and the deep remorse which fol- 
lowed. She had stopped the use of her accustomed 
stimulant, and the blows she had yesterday re- 
ceived from the hand of her brutal husband, fall- 
ing upon her already weakened form, were almost 
more than she could endure and live. 

The ready tears sprang to Mrs. Evert’s eyes as 
she received her guest, and noticed her weakened 
step and quivering form. 

Mrs. Slater sank into the easy chair offered her, 
with the weary air of one who has taxed her en- 
durance to the utmost limit. 

After expressing her sympathy in a few well 
chosen words, Mrs. Evert silently waited for Mrs. 
Slater to announce her decision. 

This she seemed in no haste to do, but let her 
glance wander aimlessly around the luxuriously 
furnished apartment. 

Opening on the south was a conservatory filled 
with the rare plants of many climes ; and through 
the open window she could see a fountain sending 
forth its coolness amid a wilderness of flowers, 
while the air was sweet with the perfume of helio- 
tropes and roses. 


62 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


It needed but this vision of peace and beauty to 
confirm the poor mother in the sacrifice which she 
was about to make. She contrasted in her mind 
this place, which her daughter might enjoy, with 
the only home that she could now offer her, and a 
low wail of agony broke from her lips. 

Mrs. Slater had been a very devoted mother un- 
til she took to drink ; and since Archie’s death it 
seemed that a fresh fountain of mother-love had 
welled forth in her heart ; and she felt that death 
to herself would be preferable to giving up her 
only child. But it must be done. It was the for- 
feit she must pay for her marriage to a drunkard. 

Home, reputation, and friends, all gone. One 
child food for the dust and worms, and the other 
given to the care of strangers. 

With tears stealing down her cheeks, she turned 
to Mrs. Evert, saying : 

“ I give my daughter into your keeping ; but oh,, 
remember, she is the dearest treasure a miserable 
mother ever yielded up.” 

Mrs. Evert’s tears were flowing in sympathy, as; 
she replied : 

i “ God witness between you and me that I will 
' be faithful to the trust. All that love and wealth 
can do to minister to Edna’s happiness shall be 
freely given her ; and God helping me, I will guide 
her in the right path, that she may meet her fathei. 
in the realms of bliss.” 


or, Flossie’s violet. 63T 

At the mention of her dead husband Mrs. Slater 
wrung her hands with a low, wailing cry. 

“ Oh, Oscar, shall I never see you again ? Lover 
and husband in the happy years that are gone,, 
what would you say to me ? Would you accuse me 
of killing your child? ” 

Turning to Mrs. Evert she exclaimed : 

“ Would God forgive my sins now? May I hope 
to be forgiven? ” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Evert. “ If you repent, God 
will cast your sins behind his back. ‘ Though 
they were as scarlet, they shall be made white as 
snow.’ Don’t you know the father met the prodi- 
gal son while he was yet a great way off ? ” 

“ Yes,” Mrs. Slater replied, despondently. “ But 
he had only deserted the father’s house, his sins 
were not so great as mine.” 

Mrs. Evert said: “ Would you limit the mercy 
of God ? What saith the Scriptures ? ‘ He is able 

to save to the uttermost all who call upon him.’ 
O, my friend, would you not like to begin life 
anew, free from sin? Then bow in obedience to 
the commands of God, and you shall be as free 
from sin as a little child. God will blot out your 
sins from the book of his remembrance.” 

Mrs. Slater was silent for some time. At last 
she said : “I will speak with you upon the subject 
again soon ; but I must go now. I fear my hus- 
band will notice my absence. I had to watch my 
opportunity to come away without his observing 


64 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


me. I desire that you should legally adopt Edna, 
so she will be placed entirely beyond his control. 
He will go to town to-morrow ; come while he is 
gone.” 

She had risen to her feet while speaking, but 
sank back, pale and trembling. 

Mrs. Evert touched a bell, a servant answered it. 
“ Tell John to bring round the carriage and take 
Mrs. Slater home,” she said. 

Mrs. Slater arose in alarm. “ 0, no ! ” she ex- 
claimed ; “ it would never do. My husband would 
know I had been here, and would surmise the ob- 
ject of my visit.” 

“Well,” said Mrs. Evert, “it is getting so late, 
John can take you almost home without being 
seen. You are too weak and ill to walk that dis- 
tance. 0, I wish the doctor were here, lie would 
give you something to help you.” 

Presently Mrs. Slater entered the carriage, and 
with a whispered “ God bless you,” from Mrs. 
Evert, was taken back home — if that place can be 
called home from whence everything has flown 
which makes life desirable, leaving in its place 
poverty, sorrow and shame. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


65 


CHAPTER VI. 

FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 

“ O, dear! O, dear! will they never come?” 
Flossie Evert exclaimed fretfully. 

The cook looked up from her work, saying 
soothingly : “Ah, now Flossie, take it easy. Your 
mother said they would not be home before even- 
ing. And you’ve been watching for them for the 
last two hours, and I know it will be a good long 
hour yet before they come.” 

“Maybe it will,” Flossie answered, with a sigh ; 
“ but I tell you, Mary Haggerty, you would be as 
anxious as I am, if you were a little girl like me, 
and your papa and mamma had gone to get a 
little cousin to be your very own. Quite like she 
was my sister, papa said, only they will adopt her 
as a niece because her mamma is living. 

“Well, I hope she is pretty,” said Flossie, as 
she flitted from the room ; “I know I shall not like 
her if she isn’t. When I asked mamma, she only 
laughed and said, 4 Wait and see.’ ” 

Mary looked after the vanishing form of the 
little girl with a smile, then turning, she said to 
the house-maid : 

“Now, that is just like Flossie. I never saw 
anyone so fond of beauty as she is.” 

“ I think we ought to be going now,” said Lucy. 

5 


OG 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“Mrs. Evert told me to take Flossie away, so she 
will not be here when they come home.” 

“I wonder what that is for? ” said Mary. 

“I don’t know. But she has a good reason for 
it, I warrant.” 

“Well, you’ll have a good time getting Flossie 
to go. She is in a fever about that girl. But it is 
my opinion they’ll be sorry for this day’s work. 
The idea of taking a girl from a place like that, 
and—” 

“Hush,” said Lucy. “Here comes Flossie.” 
Turning to the little girl, she said : 

“ Get ready for a walk, Flossie. Your mother 
said we must take some fruit and jelly to Mrs. 
Miller this afternoon.” 

“O, I don’t want to go,” said the little girl, 
pettishly. 

Mary affected to be very much surprised. “I 
thought you were always glad to visit the poor, 
sick folks; besides, your mother said for you to 
go.” 

“Well, I will go,” said Flossie, accepting her 
duty with a cheerful air ; and I will take her some 
of those tube-roses she is so fond of.” 

She skipped away, returning presently with a 
large bouquet ; and her dark eyes were sparkling 
with pleasure, as she thought how pleased the 
sick woman would be to receive it. 

“There now, Lucy Jefferies, did you ever see 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


67 


anything prettier than that?” Flossie inquired, 
looking with delight at her bouquet. 

Lucy smilingly replied, ‘‘Nothing but your own 
sweet face, Flossie.” 

“Ah, there you are at it again; and mamma 
said you must not flatter me, because it will spoil 
me and make me vain.” 

This was said with a lialf-petulant, wholly 
pleased air, which caused both the women to 
laugh. 

“Well, I won’t flatter you then,” said Lucy, 
“‘but I couldn’t help saying what I did. Your 
eye s shine like stars, your cheeks look like roses, 
and your hair looks — like — ” 

“What?” said Flossie, sharply, “Tow? Papa 
calls me ‘‘tow head’ sometimes, and I don’t like 
it.” 

“ 0, no, Flossie, not like tow. It is too fine and 
yellow to be called tow.” 

Flossie and Lucy had scarcely gone out of sight 
when the carriage came slowly up the drive, bear- 
ing to that home a new inmate, whether for joy or 
sorrow, happiness or misery — who can tell ? 

Flossie Evert was instinctively drawn toward 
the beautiful, and shrank from everything coarse 
and ugly; and as Mrs. Evert was very anxious 
that Edna should make a good first impression on 
Flossie (and knowing that the way to the heart of 
little beauty-loving Flossie was through her eye), 
had ordered the servant to take the little girl 


68 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


away, so that she should not see Edna until she 
was attired in one of the pretty dresses which 
Mrs. Evert had purchased that day. 

“ Welcome home, dear child,” she said to Edna 
at the door. “May God bless you in your new 
home. I want you to be happy, and feel that you 
have as much right here as if you were my own 
daughter. Now I will show you to your room,” 
she added, leading the way up the broad stairs, 
and entering a daintily furnished room which 
seemed a very bower of beauty to the child so 
inured to poverty. 

With a view to pleasing Flossie, Mrs. Evert 
selected a blue muslin from among the dresses 1 
which she had bought for Edna, and expressed a 
desire that it should form a part of her attire that 
evening. 

Coming into the room an hour later, she found 
Edna neatly dressed, and looking so fair and 
sweet, that she stooped and kissed her, saying : 

“You look very well, my dear. Now I will 
take you down and introduce you to my daughter.” 

Flossie had just returned, and was out on the 
veranda with her father, asking him so many 
questions all in a breath that he laughingly bade 
her put them one at a time, if she wished to be 
answered. 

She started forward with a low cry of pleasure 
when Mrs. Evert led Edna out, saying, “Edna 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


69 


Carlisle, this is my daughter Florence, or Flossie, 
as we usually call her.” 

Flossie stood regarding Edna a moment with 
pleased surprise, then said with a thrill of delight 
in her voice, “O Mamma, her eyes look just like 
my violets, don’t they! She looks like a violet 
herself with that blue dress on. May I call her 
Violet, Mamma ? ” 

“You must ask her permission to do that,” Mrs. 
Evert smilingly replied. 

“You may call me Violet if you like,” said 
Edna. 

“0,1 know I shall love you,” Flossie exclaimed. 
“You look so sweet.” 

“ I shall love you too,” Edna replied. And with 
a kiss they sealed the compact. 

“Welcome home,” said Dr. Evert, bowing over 
her hand with courtly grace. “ What shall I call 
you ? Must I call you Violet too ? ” 

“ No, you must not,” said Flossie. “ That is my 
name for her, my very own, and no one else must 
call her that.” 

“ You selfish little dragon,” exclaimed Dr. Evert. 
‘“Edna, she has paid you a compliment of the 
highest order, for she thinks violets are the love- 
liest things under the sun. Flossie, I think you 
should take her to see your bed of violets, that 
she may fully appreciate her new name.” 

Soon the little girls were flitting hither and 


70 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


thither, as Flossie pointed out the beauties of the 
place, the flowers, animals, and fowls. 

“ Oh, it is all so lovely,” said Edna. “ But have 
you no dog ? ” 

Flossie’s countenance fell. 

“ ISTo, we haven’t. John has one, but I hate it ; 
it is so ugly. I wanted papa to drive it away,, 
but he wouldn’t because John is so fond of the 
ugly thing, and promised to keep him away from 
the house.” 

Edna expressed a wish to see the dog, and a 
minute later the little girls invaded John’s domain. 

“ John,” exclaimed Flossie, as they entered the 
stable, “ Violet wants to see your dog.” 

John was a person who fully appreciated the 
sentiment, “ Love me, love my dog,” and he took 
their visit as a great compliment. 

The dog (which certainly merited the epithet 
Flossie had applied to him) was a large brindle,. 
with ears cut close to his head ; and the envious 
knife had left him only about three inches of tail 
to wag in doggish delight. 

However, he began evincing every symptom of 
joy of which he was capable, as he recognized a 
new friend in the little girl who lovingly patted 
him on the head, and finally went down upon her 
knees beside him, with her arms clasped around 
his neck. 

John watched them with pleasure. 

“ He’ll be fond of you now, Miss. He don’t 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


71 


make up easy with strangers, but he’ll like you.” 

Flossie looked at them in disgust. 

“ O, Violet,” she said, half pleadingly, half re- 
proachfully, “ how can you like that ugly dog?” 

“Why, isn’t he a good dog?” inquired Edna, 
looking up at John. 

“ As good as ever was wrapped up in so much 
hide,” he answered ; “ but Flossie hates anybody 
or anything that ain’t pretty.” 

Edna looked up in mild surprise. “How can 
the poor thing help being ugly ; ” she said. “ And 
it is wrong to hate anybody.” 

“I don't hate good people,” Flossie retorted in- 
dignantly; “but it takes a long time to learn to 
love them if they are not pretty.” 

“ You’ve got her there, Miss,” said John, nod- 
ding at Edna. 

“Ain’t she sweet? ” said Flossie, beaming upon 
him, now that the conversation was turned into a 
safer channel. “ Her name is Edna Carlisle, but 
I am going to call her Violet, because she looks 
like one,” 

At this moment the supper bell rang. “ Papa,” 
Flossie exclaimed, as they entered the dining- 
room, “Violet likes John’s dog. I thought she 
was going to kiss it,” she added, tossing her head 
scornfully. 

At this they all laughed. Flossie’s antipathy 
to the ugly dog was a standing joke among them. 

“ Well,” said Dr. Evert, “ if Edna must lavish 


72 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


lier love on a dog, we must get one that will not 
disgust your artist soul with its ugliness.” 

The evening was spent so merrily that Edna had 
no opportunity to be home-sick, or 'to feel the 
strangeness of her position; but when the good- 
nights had been spoken, and she had retired to 
her room, she felt too restless to sleep ; so blowing 
out her light she sat by the open window, through 
which a flood of moonlight was pouring, and 
mused upon her new surroundings. 

What a beautiful home this was, and how 
kindly they treated her. W r hat could she ever do 
to let them know how much she appreciated it all ? 
Once during the evening, when she had said some- 
thing of the kind to Mrs. Evert, she had replied, — 

“The only return we ask is to see you happy, 
and if you improve your opportunities, and grow 
up good and fair, we will have much cause for re- 
joicing.” 

Then Edna’s mind wandered back to her old 
home. She wondered if her step-father had been 
very angry when he found her gone. She trembled 
when she thought of what her mother would have 
to endure if he was. 

She loved her mother, but not with the love of 
a child who has constantly drank at the full foun- 
tain of mother love. Mrs. Slater had too often ill- 
treated Edna for her to feel the filial love and re- 
spect which a loving mother inspires in her child, 
but Edna’s memory could reach back a few years, 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


73 


to a time when her mother had been uniformly 
kind, and there memory lovingly rested now. 

From her open window she could see the foun- 
tain and hear its gentle murmurings. A rose tree 
which grew beneath her window, was so near that 
she could almost touch its fragrant burden; and 
gleaming in the moonlight, distant about half a 
mile, she could see the white stones which marked 
the resting place of the “ blessed dead. ” 

She fancied she could discern the spot where her 
brother lay sleeping, and she wondered in her 
childish heart if he knew where she was. 

Her love for her brother had been intense. A 
love such as only strong natures can feel; and 
when the grave closed upon him, her only desire 
had been to lie down upon his grave and weep 
her life away. 

Arising, she went to her bureau, and took from 
Bj drawer the only thing that she had brought from 
her old home — Archie’s Bible. 

Kissing it reverently, she returned it to its place, 
only pausing to wipe away a tear which had fallen 
upon it, fearful lest it should soil her only treasure 
— all that was left of the past life of the children 
of Oscar Carlisle. 

The week which followed Edna’s adoption into 
Dr. Evert’s family, was like a dream of bliss to the 
poor child, who knew so much of the thorns of life 
.and nothing of its joys. 

All that kindly hands and loving hearts could 


74 


EDNA CARLISLE! 


devise to give her pleasure was done ; and young 
as she was she understood and appreciated their 
efforts, and at times was overcome with a flood of 
grateful tears, which expressed more to her kind 
friends that her poorly spoken words of thanks. 

Upon her twelfth birthday — which occurred 
about two weeks after she went to live with them — 
she was much surprised at the kindly care they 
took to commemorate the day; and also at the 
many presents which were bestowed upon her. 

Flossie came forward with what she deemed the 
choicest of gifts — a large wax doll and a bouquet of 
violets. John, who had taken Edna into his heart 
when she condescended to like his dog, gave her a 
box of bon-bons. Mrs. Evert had a small book- 
case, filled with a carefully chosen collection of 
books, placed in the little girl’s room. But the 
doctor brought forward the crowning gift of all ; it 
being- a half-grown Newfoundland dog, which 
called forth the admiration of all, even of Flossie,, 
and was received with joyous tears by Edna, and 
promptly named Leo, in honor of her old time 
favorite. 

The next day was Sunday, and the family drove' 
over to Rochester to worship in the village church. 

At the invitation of the gospel, much to the sur- 
prise of the congregation, Dr. Evert went forward 
and “ made the good confession.” 

He had been among them so long, and had so> 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


75 


often refused the offer of salvation, that they had 
ceased to expect him. 

It was an hour of never-to-be-forgotten joy to 
Mrs. Evert — an hour which she had looked forward 
to, and prayed for, for many a long year, and only 
God and the holy angels knew of the fervent re- 
joicing of her faithful heart. 

Tears of joy were coursing down her cheeks, and 
she seemed unconscious of all else, until she felt a 
light touch upon her arm, and looking up beheld 
Edna’s white face, and heard her say : 

“Am I too young to go?” 

“Too young to start Heavenward? Ho, my 
child.” Then, unconsciously dropping into Bible 
phraseology, she said: “If thou believest that 
Jesus is the Son of God, thou mayest.” 

Another ripple of surprise passed over the au- 
dience as the little white-robed figure went for- 
ward to bow in obedience to the King of kings. 

A goodly sight, I ween. One, tall and strong in 
the power of his young manhood, come to lay all 
at the foot of the cross, and take upon him the 
yoke of the meek and lowly Jesus; the other, a 
frail young girl, just starting out on life’s jour- 
ney, fleeing for refuge to the Rock of Ages, claim- 
ing the promise of Him who said, “I will never 
leave thee nor forsake thee.” But which of the 
two will be first in the kingdom of heaven I cannot 
tell, for there the first shall be last and the last 
first. 


76 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


A week later, Mrs. Slater, bowed beneath a load 
of sorrow, remorse, and shame, and desiring to 
have the old record blotted out and to begin life 
anew under the divine blessing, yielded a faithful 
obedience to the Word of God, and was baptized 
for the remission of her sins in the river which 
flowed near her home. 

Many sympathizing hearts warmed toward the 
poor woman, for they felt that thenceforward her 
path would be a thorny one. Knowing the brutal 
character of her husband, they believed that his 
anger would be aroused when he learned that she 
had become a Christian; but none but she who 
voluntarily incurred his wrath, realized how great 
it would be. Lately her life had become a living 
martyrdom. 

In former years he had delighted with all the 
evil joy of a lost soul in dragging her down to 
his own level; but since Archie’s death she had 
steadily refused to drink with him, or even to enter 
the saloon, and her pale, sorrowful face served to 
give him some pricks of conscience, when he re- 
membered how he had married this woman, prom- 
ising to love and cherish her, instead of which he 
had broken her heart and spent her substance. 
However, these prickings of his sin-scarred con- 
science resulted in nothing except to make him 
more hard and cruel than he would otherwise have 
been. 

Formerly his anger had been chiefly spent upon 


OK, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


77 


the children; now it was vented upon the frail 
form of his wife, who was already staggering upon 
her thorny road beneath so many burdens. 

When he learned of the step which she had this 
day taken — a step which had caused the angels of 
heaven to rejoice — his anger knew no bounds. 

Half an hour later one looking into the saloon 
would have seen a besotted creature, mumbling 
curses in drunken anger; and with unsteady hand 
raising to his lips another draught of the fiery 
liquor, which would further assist to make him 
forget the cruel deed of that hour. 

In the room where Archie had died, his mother 
lay prone upon the floor. There was a purple 
mark upon her face, and her pale lips murmured 
inarticulate moans. 

We draw a curtain upon the scene, believing 
that in this hour of her Gethsemane, God will 
grant her some strengthening angel. 


i 


) 


78 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE ATWOODS. 

Search where you will, for fifty miles around, 
you could not find a more beautiful place than the 
big stone house upon the hill, which overlooks the 
village of Rochester. There it has stood for 
twenty-five years, crowned with ivy, and surround- 
ed by all the beauty that people of wealth and 
taste can gather around them, to beautify this 
earth and cause them to forget the loss of the 
Eden that our first parents forfeited. 

The house had been built by Victor Atwood, a 
young man who was noted for his great wealth 
and kindly heart. To this home he brought his 
young bride, and they soon grew into the hearts 
of the people, rich and poor alike delighting to 
love and honor them. 

But Victor Atwood desired no higher honor than 
to be known as an humble child of God ; no great- 
er pleasure than that to be derived from his books, 
and domestic felicity. 

Ten peaceful, happy years passed by, and then 
the light was quenched in those eyes which had 
ever beamed with brotherly kindness, and his 
hands, which had always been ready to do good, 
were folded across the cold and pulseless heart. 

Of all the woes of earth the loss of our loved 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


79 


ones seems the hardest to hear. We lay the dear 
form in the silent grave, and turn away, and by 
and by we teach our lips to smile ; but memory 
ever hovers around that lonely grave and all the 
rest of our lives we 

“ Sigh for the touch of a vanished hand, 

And the sound of a voice that is still.” 

The widow of Victor Atwood bravely picked up 
the broken strands of her life for the sake of her 
children who had thus early lost their counsellor 
and guide. The “Boatman pale” shortly came 
again into that family, bearing with him across 
the mystical river the youngest of the nestlings, 
leaving to this mourning Rachel but two chil- 
dren ; Homer, the elder, who has before been men- 
tioned in these chapters, and Esther, who sits yon- 
der upon the veranda beside her mother, restlessly 
waiting for the arrival of the train, which is to 
bring her brother home from college. 

But let me properly introduce them, for they 
take an important part in our story. Mrs. At- 
wood, being the elder, will sit for her portrait 
first. 

She is of about the medium size, with eyes of 
almost youthful brightness, and the delicate color 
in her fair cheeks seems in striking contrast to the 
snow white hair, which crowns her head in natural 
waves, more beautiful than any produced by art. 
No one looking upon her peaceful countenance, 


80 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


would have deemed that she had ever known 
aught of sorrow, but would have thought that 
“ Time had laid his hand upon her heart, not 
smitingly, but gently, as the harper lays his open 
palm across his harp to deaden its vibrations. ” 

Esther will be harder to describe. If I say that 
she is tall and slender, rather too slender for 
classic beauty, that her hair is golden brown, that 
her eyes are dark brown, like her mother’s, and 
that she is just a little bit freckled, will you 
understand ? Hers was not a beautiful face, but it 
was a very winsome and intelligent one ; and 
those who were best acquainted with Esther At- 
wood, thought her very lovely, because in friendly 
intercourse, they could see the soul-beauty ex- 
pressed in her face. 

Mrs. Atwood had much reason to rejoice in the 
noble character of each of her children. After 
the death of her husband, she had found her only 
joy in moulding their plastic minds after her own 
high ideal of true nobility ; and she had been 
amply rewarded by seeing them develop into a 
stainless youth and maiden, each seeking only 
j after those things which are true, and lovely, and 
, of good report. 

Very early in life Homer had decided to become 
a preacher of the gospel ; and his mother had re- 
joiced in his decision, regretting only that he must 
be absent from her while obtaining his education. 
However, she and Esther were very happy upon 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


81 


the morning when we introduce them to the 
reader, for Homer was coming to spend his 
vacation with them, and they looked forward to 
many happy hours which would intervene before 
he must return to school. 

Presently the carriage, which had been sent to 
the depot, entered the grounds, and they went 
eagerly forward to welcome Homer and the friend 
who had accompanied him. 

Homer sprang lightly to the ground, and em- 
braced his mother and sister. Then with a smil- 
ing glance toward the young man who was slowly 
decending from the carriage, he said : 

“ Mother and Esther, you must congratulate me 
upon having succeeded, at the last moment, in 
persuading Arthur to come home with me.” 

“ I am afraid that Homer’s words may mislead 
you,” said Arthur Russell, as he shook hands with 
them. “ Out of the kindness of his heart, he invit- 
ed me because he knew that after having spent 
several weeks of my last vacation in your pleasant 
home, this earth would seem to me a howling 
wilderness, if I were doomed to spend the summer 
elsewhere.” 

After being warmly welcomed, the young men 
repaired to their respective rooms to refresh them- 
selves after their long journey. 

Homer’s first act after entering his room, was to 

walk to a window and look out upon th§ scene of 
6 


82 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


rural loveliness. It was one evidently dear to 
liim ; for liis brown eyes lighted up with pleas- 
ure, as he surveyed the surroundings of his 
beautiful home. 

His life had been peculiarly free from trouble. 
Having inherited a large fortune, and always 
been guided by his mother’s wise counsels, he 
had escaped alike the pains of poverty and the 
sorrows which sin entails. Twenty-two years 
had passed over his head, bringing to him many 
graces of mind and heart; and though he knew 
nothing of sorrow by personal experience, yet his 
was a heart upon which the sorrows of the race 
deep inroads made, and his shoulders would ever 
be ready to share the burdens of others. 

As he stood there dwelling upon the beauty 
of each dear and well remembered scene, he 
heard a tripping step upon the stair, and smiled 
as he recognized it. He knew it was Esther com- 
ing for a chat. Presently her golden brown head 
peeped in at the partly open door, and she said : 

“ May I come in for a few minutes ? 55 

Homer went forward and drew her into the room, 
kissing her fondly. Esther was immeasurably 
dear to him, and he verily believed that no one 
had ever possessed so noble a mother, or so lov- 
able a sister, as his own. 

“Well,” said he laughing, “‘What wilt thou, 
queen Esther, and what is thy request ? It shall 
be giyen thee to the half of the kingdom.’ ” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


83 


“I have no request,” she answered saucily, 
and I want no kingdom to reign over but your 
heart.” 

“ Ah, my dear sister, that will always be yours, 
but I fear you will grow weary of ruling over so 
small a territory, and will be conquering some 
other province. Indeed, I feel quite certain the 
conquest has already been made of Arthur’s heart, 
and it only remains to be seen if the queen will 
appropriate what she has conquered.” 

Esther was blushing furiously as she replied : 
And you are so anxious to be rid of me, that you 
have invited this unfortunate young man here, 
knowing this?” 

“Esther, my dear, I invited him from sheer pity; 
besides I knew you would have to give him an 
answer sooner or later, for playing the mischief 
with his heart last summer. I fancied he is not 
disagreeable to my Queenie, and if I must give 
you up to some one, I prefer Arthur to any one 
else. He has graduated with the highest honors, 
and I predict for him a bright future.” 

After this Esther rushed into general gossip, 
telling him of all that had lately occurred in the 
neighborhood, and finally ended by speaking of 
the new member of Hr. Evert’s family, and the 
doctor’s recent conversion. 

A few evenings later, as the sun was declining, 
the family of Hr. Evert might have been seen sit- 
ting upon the veranda, enjoying the balmy even- 


84 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


ing air, which was wafted to them, laden with the 
fragrance of a thousand flowers. Edna was read- 
ing one of the books which Mrs. Evert had 
presented to her, and Leo was lying at her feet, 
eager to receive her affectionate notice. The 
doctor and his wife were busily engaged in con- 
versation, and Flossie was sitting upon the steps 
singing a lullaby to her doll. “ There comes 
Homer Atwood,” exclaimed Dr. Evert, and he went 
eagerly forward to welcome his approaching guest. 

Mrs. Evert also received him gladly. And 
Flossie dropped her doll in her great delight. 
She and Homer were great friends, and almost her 
earliest recollection was that of being carried 
around in Homer’s arms. 

After he had been duly welcomed, Mrs. Evert 
introduced him to Edna. Homer had never met 
her before, but he pressed her hand warmly, as 
he said: “We shall be good friends, I trust. I 
was very fond of your brother, and I deeply sym- 
pathize with you in your loss of him.” 

Edna was not a bashful child, and there was 
a womanly dignity in her manner, as she answered 
him, her blue eyes full of tears : 

“I thank you for your kind words. I have 
often heard Archie speak lovingly of you.” Then 
she retreated to her book and chair and the con- 
versation became general. 

Presently she heard Homer praising the beauty 
of Leo, and heard Flossie say : “ He belongs to 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


85 


Edna. Papa gave him to her for a birthday 
present. And,” she jealously added, “I do be- 
lieve she loves that dog better that she does me. 
Mamma gave her some books, and I gave her a 
doll ; she is always reading, or petting that dog, 
and she never plays with her doll.” 

“What?” said Dr. Evert, “you are not finding 
fault with your Violet, are you?” 

“No,” said Flossie, remorsefully; “I am not; 
I think she is just as sweet as ever can be, but 
I do wish she liked dolls.” 

Edna laid down her book, smiling a little sadly, 
as she said : 

“I do like my doll very much ; and I will al- 
ways keep it just as nice as it is now.” 

“Yes, I suppose you will,” said Flossie, a little 
spitefully, “for you never play with it; I would 
like to know how it could get spoilt.” 

“My dear,” said Mrs. Evert, gently, “you must 
Temember that Edna is older than you are.” 

“ She is only four years older than I am, 
Mamma, and I know I shall love dolls all my 
life.” 

•“ Come, Nellie, give us some music,” said Dr. 
Evert ; “we must have some singing now that we 
.can once more have the pleasure of listening to 
Homer’s voice.” 

Mrs. Evert bade a servant light up the drawing- 
xoom, mid they all went in; she seating herself 


86 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


at the piano, played some familiar church music y 
which they all joined in singing. 

An hour was spent while they were thus hap- 
pily engaged. It has grown quite dark outside, 
except for lurid flashes of lightning which occa- 
sionally light up the heavens. 

But who is that coming so wearily up toward 
the house ? It is a woman’s figure, and she tot- 
ters as if her strength was almost spent. Low 
moans occasionally issue from her pale lips, and 
blood is streaming from an ugly cut upon her face. 

She struggles on until she reaches the veranda. 
Through the open window she can see the happy 
occupants of the beautiful room ; but her eyes rest 
upon Edna, noticing her dainty garments, and the 
happy smile upon her face. 

Seeing her child thus safely sheltered from the 
rude storm of adversity which is bursting over her 
own head, the poor woman with a cry of “ Oh, my 
lamb ! My precious lamb ! ” throws up her arms 
and falls unconscious on the ground. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


87 


CHAPTER VIII. 

ROCK ME TO SLEEP, MOTHER. 

The morning sun is just peeping over the hill 
tops, gilding the world with a radiance of golden 
dawn ; but early as it is, Esther Atwood is moving 
softly about in her room, with a heart as light as 
any bird that sings his matins in the forest. 

With deft fingers she brushes out her golden 
brown curls, which ripple far below her slender 
waist; then after donning a dress of pale pink 
mull, and a white gainesborough hat, she trips 
softly across the wide hall, and taps thrice at 
Homer’s door, calling him gently by name. 

She is surprised, however, when he immediately 
opens the door, dressed as if ready for going out. 

“ What now, queen Esther?” he inquires as he 
kisses her rosy cheeks, where the dimples are com- 
ing and going so witchingly. 

“ ‘ I am siren of the Nile,’ ” she answered mock- 
ingly, “ and you shall sail with me in my 4 gild- 
ed barge.’ Perhaps you have forgotten that my 
boat, the ‘River Queen,’ is moored in the river 
near the house. If you will come and sail with 
me down the river, we will join our voices with the 
birds this morning, when they sing their anthems 
of praise, I will fill your arms with water-lilies, 
crown your brow with roses, and bring you back 


88 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


to breakfast with an appetite such as you have not 
known since you went away to school.’ 5 

Homer looked down at her with a tender smile. 

“ Sweet siren of the Nile,” he replied, “ I will go 
with you. What more could one wish ? ‘ Sweet 

prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flowers.’ I ask 
no more — until breakfast time.” 

They crossed the smoothly-shaven lawn, down to 
the daisied banks of the river — paths often trod 
by them in childish glee, but never when they 
loved each other more fondly than now. 

Homer would have taken the oars, but Esther 
forbade him, saying : 

“ No, I will row, and you shall talk. Tell me 
why you staid away so late last night ? I know it 
must have been something unusual that kept you 
when it looked so much like it would storm.” 

“ No,” she said, as he attempted to possess him- 
self of the oars, “you shall do as I bid you. I 
have rowed upon this stream until it is no longer a 
weariness to me.” 

“ See there ! ” she said, as she bared one soft, 
white arm above the dimpled elbow. “ My arms 
have become as brawny as any washer-woman’s.” 

Homer laughed derisively. 

“Nothing could ever spoil your arms, my dainty 
sister; but I think I will defer telling my story 
until after we have had our songs and water- 
lilies.” 

Then Esther began to sing in a sweet, melodious 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


89 


voice, and Homer joined her in a tenor of rare 
strength and melody. The sweet tones floated 
down the river, and united with the music of the 
songsters of the wood. 

“ Let 113 awake our joys ; 

Strike up with cheerful voice, 

Each creature sing. 

A ngels begin the song ; 

Mortals the strains prolong, 

In accents sweet and strong, 

Jesus is King.” 

With anthems of praise and snatches of wild, 
sweet melody, the boat was finally anchored in the 
bayou, where the water-lilies grew. Esther deftly 
kept the boat in position, while Homer reached 
over and gathered the spotless beauties, and laid 
them in the boat at her feet. 

“ Oh, how sweet they are ! ” she exclaimed. 
“ Such dazzling whiteness and purity ! and yet they 
choose a most unlovely spot in which to send forth 
their lovely blossoms.” 

“Your words,” said Homer, “remind me of 
those beautiful lines of Ingelow’s.” 

“ Repeat them, please. I have forgotten them if 
I ever read them.” 

At her request he repeated the lines in a strong, 
melodious voice, which was destined to prove a 
great power in the years to come, in swaying the 
feelings of the people : 


90 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“‘My heart is bitter, lilies, at your sweet; 

Why did the dew-drops fringe your chalices ? 

Why in your beauty are you thus complete, 

You silver ships— you floating palaces? 

Oh, if it need be, you must allure man’s eye, 

Yet wherefore blossom here ? O w T hy ? O why ? ’ ” 

After having gathered a great quantity of flow- 
ers, they turned the boat homeward. Homer in- 
sisted that he should row, as they were now going 
up stream. 

“ And now,” said he, “ I will tell you why I was 
away so late last night.” 

Then he related how he had called at Dr. Evert’s, 
and while they were engaged in singing they had 
been startled by hearing a piercing shriek, and the 
fall of some one near the window ; he and Dr. 
Evert had rushed out and carried in the person, 
who proved to be Mrs. Slater. She had fainted, 
and considerable time elapsed before she returned 
to consciousness, notwithstanding the doctor assid- 
uously applied restoratives. When she had re- 
covered sufficiently to be able to speak, she told 
them that since she became a Christian, her hus- 
band had shamefully abused her, and upon that 
evening she had barely escaped with her life. 

Life with him had become too painful for endur- 
ance, and she had decided to go home to her 
mother. 

When Dr. Evert asked Mrs. Slater if her hus- 
band was to go unpunished, she said, and truly, 
that no indignities which might be heaped upon 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


91 


him could relieve her suffering, and she could not 
bear to bring dishonor upon the man whom she 
had promised to love, honor and obey. 

A few evenings later Mrs. Slater bade good-bye 
to Dr. Evert’s family, pressed her child to her 
heart with a voiceless sob, and stepped upon the 
train which was to take her back to her old 
home. 

It was quite dark when the train rushed into 
the little village, deposited its one passenger, 
then dashed on into the darkness again. 

Wearily she picked her way among the dimly 
lighted streets, until at last she reached the house 
where dwelt her widowed mother. 

With a choking sensation in her throat, she 
passed up the graveled path toward the house. 

Memory came back with overwhelming force, 
and she sank exhausted upon the porch steps at 
her mother’s door. 

Like pictures in a panorama, visions of the 
happy past came before her, and she bowed her 
head and wept. How familiar it all was. Even 
in the gathering gloom she could faintly discern 
the rose bushes, that were breathing out their 
sweetness on the air, just as they had done when 
she was blithe and young, and had plucked their 
fragrant blossoms to adorn herself and make her 
fair for her lover’s eyes. 

Through that door she had passed upon the arm 
of her handsome young husband, a happy, happy 


92 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


bride. In after years she had often returned 
thither with him and her children. How well 
she remembered the last time they had visited 
there together. She and her mother had sat upon 
the porch enjoying the evening coolness after a 
sultry day. Archie played with his dog upon 
the grassy lawn, and her husband, his handsome 
face aglow with happiness, walked to and fro upon 
the porch, with Edna, a little white-robed prattler 
of three years, in his arms. She seemed a tiny 
image of himself as she sat thus, with one arm 
thrown around his neck in childish grace, her dim- 
pled hands filled with roses which had been gath- 
ered from the rose tree that was now waving its 
branches over the head of her heart-broken 
mother. 

Mrs. Slater sobbed as she remembered how her 
husband had paused beside her chair, and stoop- 
ing down, had bidden Edna lay the roses against 
mamma’s cheek, and then had laughingly de- 
manded which was the purest pink, her cheeks or 
the roses. 

How happy he had looked. Ho trace then of 
the fever which was so soon to quench the bright- 
ness of those beautiful eyes, which were beaming 
on her so full of love-light. But he had died ; and 
the cheeks he had admired were white and thin, 
and bore marks of cruel blows, administered by a 
drunkard’s hand. She moaned and wrung her 
hands ; the murmur of the rose leaves in the gentle 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


98 : 

breeze, sounded to her ears like pitying voices y 
and the dews of night, that wet her uplifted face y 
were like the tears of Heaven. 

She was hut thirty-live years old T as we count 
time, hut looked fifty. And if counted hy heart- 
beats of sorrow, who shall measure her age ! 

A stranded wreck ! A wasted life ! A fainting 
pilgrim on life’s weary way ! 

While she sits there weeping and praying for 
strength to press on to the end, we will look within 
the house and see her mother. . 

She is a woman of perhaps sixty- eight years 
of age, hut looking younger. Glancing at the 
hook she is reading we see that it is the Book 
of hooks. Then we know the cause of that almost 
youthful, happy look. 

Prayer from an ever-living source has upheld 
her in her lonely widowhood. And in her heart is 
resting the peace which God giveth to his- beloved. 

As she reads on, her ear is startled hy a faltering 
step upon the porch ; then comes a knock at the 
door, and a voice calls softly, “Mother,, it is I, Ger- 
trude.” 

With a cry of “ Oh Gertie, Gertie,” she springs 
to the door — opens it — gives a hasty glance at the 
forlorn figure which tells its own story, and the 
two women .weep in each other’s arms. 

The night wanes apace. The morning begins to 
dawn, hut still they sit and talk and weep. At 


94 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


last Mrs. Slater lays her head in * her mother’s 
lap and says : 

“ Oh, Mother ! Mother ! If I could only forget 
it all ; all that has come to me in these unhappy 
years ! How those beautiful lines of Florence Per- 
cy’s keep weaving themselves through my brain.” 

“ Mother, dear Mother, the years have been long, 

Since I last listened your lullaby song ; 

Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem 
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream. 

Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace. 

With your light lashes just sweeping my face, 

Never hereafter to wake or to weep;— 

Rock me to sleep, Mother, rock me to sleep ! 77 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


95 


CHAPTER IX. 

EARL WHITNEY. 

“ Quiet talks she liketh best ; 

And her smile it seems half holy ; 

As if drawn from thoughts more far 
Than our common jestings are.” 

After Edna was adopted into Dr. Evert’s family, 
life presented to her a different aspect. All her 
wants were supplied almost before she knew her 
own wishes. Dr. Evert was always courteous and 
kind. Mrs. Evert treated her with the same lov- 
ing tenderness she evinced toward Flossie; and 
Flossie herself regarded Edna with a love almost 
amounting to adoration ; and fully and freely was 
that love returned. 

Mrs. Evert closely observed the tendency of the 
young girl’s mind, and seeing how her whole soul 
was drawn toward the “good, the beautiful, and 
the true,” felt amply rewarded for the care be- 
stowed upon her. 

From the time of Edna’s advent into the family, 
she heard frequent reference made to Mrs. Whit- 
ney, the only sister of Dr. Evert. She had married 
a wealthy Chicago banker, and her life was almost 
wholly devoted to the fashionable world, yet for 
many years it had been her custom to spend the 
summer season in her brother’s pleasant home. 

She and her children usually came about the 


96 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


first of June, and staid until the first of September, 
making the place joyous with laughter and song. 

It was with a feeling of dismay that Edna 
learned that they were expected to arrive in a 
short time. The life she was now leading was very 
sweet to her, and she feared to meet these fashion- 
able relatives, for doubtless they would consider 
her an intruder. 

She was destined, however, to meet one of them 
sooner than had been anticipated ; for one evening 
while the family was at supper, they heard a 
quick, eager tread in the hall, and presently there 
entered the dining-room a handsome, debonair 
youth of perhaps eighteen years of age, who was 
greeted with glad surprise, and cries of “ Why ! 
Earl Whitney, where did you drop- from? Why 
didn’t you let us know when you would arrive, that 
we might have met you at the depot ? ” and kindred 
expressions. 

Earl replied : “I did not expect to be here so 
soon ; I begged off at the last moment from stop- 
ping to make that visit with mother and the girls 
at Mrs. Thayer’s, and so here I am ahead of time. 
j But, Auntie, you would not blame me for hasten- 
ing if you knew how I have longed to come.” 

“ Blame you?” said Mrs. Evert. “Why, Earl, 
you are as welcome as the sunshine. We are 
very, very glad to see you my dear boy. You 
could not come an hour too soon to please us.” 

It was quite evident he was a general favorite, 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


97 


judging by the glad welcome which he received ; 
and looking at his winsome face, and head covered 
with curling waves of fair hair, Edna did not won- 
der that he was beloved ; but she little thought how 
closely the joy and sorrow of her future would be 
interwoven with his. A plate was laid for the un- 
expected guest, and he fell to with youthful zest, 
declaring that he had been whetting his appetite 
for country fare, and that while at school it had 
always served to lighten his studies, to remember 
that he would spend his vacation with them. 

“ We also have looked forward to your coming, 
my boy,” said Dr. Evert. “ But how goes it with 
you at school ? Do you begin to think that ‘ Wis- 
dom will die with you ? ’ ” 

Earl laughed merrily. “ No sir,” he replied. “ I 
have not advanced so far as that, but as the fellow 
said, ‘I’ve got a middling tight grip, sir, on a 
handful of things I know.” 

“ That is right, Earl, keep a tight grip on what 
you learn. You have a bright future before you, 
and I shall watch your career with interest.” 

That evening always stood out a bright spot in 
Edna’s memory. It was as if another gleam of 
sunshine had shone athwart her pathway. 

The friends of Earl Whitney were wont to liken 
his presence to the sunlight, which warms and 
cheers, and sad indeed must have been the heart 
which was not made happier by contact with this 
7 


98 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


handsome, guileless youth, with his happy laugh 
and sympathetic voice. 

Yet there was nothing effeminate in the manner 
of the stalwart young fellew, unless it was his al- 
most womanly tenderness, and little, loving ges- 
tures, that imperceptibly won the love of those 
with whom he associated. 

How swiftly those bright summer day§ fled by, 
ringing sweet peans of joy through all their 
future. 

Perhaps the greatest charm, and at the same 
time the greatest fault of Earl Whitney’s disposi- 
tion, was his adaptability of moods and opinions 
to those of the person with whom he was associ- 
ated. 

Mrs. Evert observed this prominent characteris- 
tic, and sighed over the future, when he should 
come in contact with evil minds. 

At present, however, he was a most delightful 
•companion, entering with enthusiasm into conver- 
sation with his uncle concerning his profession, or 
any subject that he chose to discuss, charming the 
cider man with his readiness to adopt his views, 
and dress them up in bright, strong language, 
which made them seem doubly attractive. Or he 
would sit beside his aunt and skim lightly over the 
subjects which she brought forth from her well 
stored mind, with as much ardor as if to do so was 
the chief joy of his existence. 

Next he would be engaged in reading poetry to 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


99 


Edna, or telling her stories of grand heroes of the 
past, and of noble deeds which will live through 
-all future time ; observing meanwhile with admir- 
ing eyes, that the stories of noble ambition and 
consecrated lives caused the color to flush her 
dainty blush-rose face, her lips to grow tremulous 
with feeling, and her shy, sweet eyes to look like 
Flossie’s own violets covered with dew. 

To Flossie, Earl was just as delightful a compan- 
ion ; going gayly with her to see her pets, praising 
and caressing her white kittens, deeply interested 
in her numerous family of doves, zealously striv- 
ing to learn the names of all her pets, and would 
oven go down in adoration before her bed of 
voilets, or enter with enthusiasm into the laudable 
enterprise of gathering flowers of different hues to 
discern which was the most becoming to Edna’s 
fair complexion 

At the expiration of two weeks Mrs. Whitney 
and her daughters arrived, and Edna soon felt rec- 
onciled to their coming, for they treated her only 
with courteous kindness, which grew into tender 
friendship as the acquaintance advanced. 

Mrs. Whitney was a tall and stately blonde 
with wondrous grey eyes, capable of a thousand 
expressions. Beulah, her fifteen year old daugh- 
ter, closely resembled her in face and disposition ; 
and Ivy, sweet, gentle Ivy, how shall I describe 
her ? 


100 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“ I will paint her as I see her. 

Ten times have lilies blown 
Since She looked upon the sun. 

“ And her face is lily clear, 

Lily shaped and dropped in duty 
To the law of its own beauty. 

“ Oval cheek, encolored faintly, 

Which a trail of golden hair, 

Keeps from fading off to air. 

“ And a forehead fair and saintly. 

Which two blue eyes undershine, 

Like meek prayers before a shrine.” 

Sweet, gentle Ivy, tender and clinging like the 
vine whose name yon bear, strong only to love and 
suffer. I wonder what the future will bring to you, 
my sweet saint ? But this I know, you will grieve 
most deeply over the sorrows of those you love, 
and rejoice only in their joys. 

Ivy was a striking contrast to the dark-eyed 
daughter of the house, rosy cheeked, bright, im- 
pulsive little Flossie. The bond of love between 
the two cousins was very strong, but did not equal 
in intensity that between Flossie and Edna. 

Summer fled gayly and brightly, and at its close 
Mrs. Whitney returned to Chicago for another 
fashionable season, and her children returned to 
school. 

Mrs. Evert engaged a private teacher to instruct 
Edna and Flossie. Oh, how different was Edna’s 
life now, from what it had been a few months be- 
fore. ~No more pinching poverty ; no more unkind 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


101 


words, or cruel blows; to the contrary, she was 
surrounded by wealth, love, and refining in- 
fluences. 

Mr. Slater had suddenly disappeared, no one 
knew whither. Her mother was gone from her. 
All that had made up her past had vanished, and 
her very existence seemed changed, as these new 
and refining influences wrought upon her sensitive 
nature. 

But in Taylorville lived a sad-eyed woman 
whose hourly prayer was that Edna would grow 
up good and fair, and escape the shoals which had 
wrecked her mother’s life. 


102 


EDNA CARLISLE;, 


CHAPTER X. 

THE MOSS ROSE. 

“Gather ye rosebuds as ye may, 

Old Time is still a-flying, 

And this same flower that blooms to-day 
To-morrow may be dying.” 

Day after day rose and retired, week after week 
glided away, and months have been merged inta 
years, since Edna found a home in Dr. Evert’s 
family. 

When we see her again, she is wearing the 
beauty of eighteen summers on her maiden brow. 

She is home now from school, to spend her vaca- 
tion with those dearly loved friends who are 
watching over her career with so much of joy and 
pride. 

Young as she is, she has developed much liter- 
ary talent, and her poems and short, pointed 
articles always receive a welcome in the temper- 
ance and religious papers of the day. 

Arthur Russell and Esther have married, and he 
is now editor of a thriving temperance journal iu 
Chicago; and he is always glad to print Edna’s; 
productions, for they breathe the pain of a noble 
soul who knows from past woe the sorrows caused 
by the rum power. A soul who has consecrated 
her life to a high and holy calling ; who will read 
God’s book of nature with a poet’s eye, and inter- 


or, Flossie's violet. 


103 


pret, for those who fail to see, the sweet messages 
of Infinite love written between the lines . 

Many eyes are watching her course with interest 
and predicting great success for her because of her 
enthusiasm and evident poetic ability. 

Flossie believed that no mortal had ever before 
transcribed such beautiful thoughts as those 
which flowed from Edna’s pen, and her love almost 
amounted to adoration for her adopted sister. 

Flossie’s ambition for herself was that of excel- 
ling as an artist. All her life she had been a 
beauty worshiper, and skilled instructors had been 
engaged to develop her natural talent for painting, 
and under their teaching she had made astonish- 
ing progress. 

She had painted Edna in many attitudes, but 
was always dissatisfied with her work, though her 
friends considered it very natural ; but her love for 
Edna made her exacting and she declared that it 
shamed her Violet’s beauty to call those miserable 
daubs natural. 

Edna had been home from school about a week 
now, and Flossie had been watching every atti- 
tude, gesture and expression, preparatory to trying 
her skill again. 

This constant scrutiny to which she was sub- 
jected would have been exceedingly annoying to 
Edna from anyone else, but she knew the tender- 
ness underlying it, and thanked God for the love 
of this loyal little heart. 


104 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Earl Whitney was with them again. His mother 
and sisters had decided to spend the season at a 
fashionable watering place, and had been anxious 
to have him accompany them ; but he had steadily 
refused to do so. What to him was fashionable 
society, in comparison to the companship of these 
dearly loved relatives, and the pleasure of looking 
into a pair of dark blue eyes that had learned to 
brighten at his coming, or to listen to the sweet 
voice of an earnest soul, that always aroused his 
best impulses and most noble resolves. 

On the afternoon of which we write, Earl had 
ridden over to Atwood’s, in hopes of meeting 
Homer. Although widely differing in disposition, 
there had been a warm friendship between the two 
ever since early boyhood. 

Homer had been called to assume the charge of 
the Rochester church, as soon as his college days 
were over; and in accepting the position he felt 
that his dearest wish was satisfied ; for to minister 
to this people, that he had known all his life, had 
been the hope which had hung triumphant and 
star-like over long years of wearisome application 
to study. 

He preferred this charge because he felt that 
having known the people from his infancy, and 
been familiar with their joys and sorrows, and 
knowing the circumstances and disposition of each 
one, he could better lead their souls to God than a 
stranger could. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


105 


He loved his work. The master passion of his 
soul was the desire to win souls for the garner of 
immortality ; and to this season of usefulness his 
hopes and aims had tended for many years ; and 
he had been wont to say : 

‘ “ I would I were an excellent divine, 

That had my Bible at my finger-ends ; 

That men might hear, out of this mouth of mine, 

How God doth make his enemies his friends.’” 

Earl failed to meet his friend, for at the time he 
called Homer was two miles away, sitting at the 
bedside of old Mr. Allen, who was slowly dying of 
consumption. 

The sufferer was informing Homer of the burden 
that weighed down his heart and oppressed his 
spirit, more than the disease which was slowly 
eating his life away. He had been a grower of 
small fruit, and their little farm had never made 
them more than a frugal living ; and now that his 
long illness had necessitated the employment of 
help and the payment of doctor bills, they had 
been obliged to mortgage their little home ; the 
note would soon fall due, and he feared he would 
have to die in a strange place and leave his wife 
and son penniless in the world. 

“I have worked hard all my life,” he said, 
“ and we have denied ourselves many of the com- 
forts of life to retain our little home ; but it has 
all been in vain.” 

“ Oh, why ! ” he exclaimed vehemently, “ if there 


106 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


is a God, as you say, why do some have all the 
comforts and luxuries of life, and others who are 
equally, or perhaps more worthy, never obtain 
more than a bare living ? ” 

“My friend,” said Homer kindly, “you must 
remember that when God created man, he meant 
him to be a perfectly happy being, with no unsup- 
plied wants. Through disobedience he fell from 
that blest estate, and in the struggle between man 
and man things have become very unequally 
divided. But think you God looks on unmoved? 
The Bible is full of comfort for the poor, and com- 
mands upon the rich to regard the welfare of the 
poor. And doth he not say, ‘I have chosen the 
poor of this world, rich in faith, to be heirs of the 
kingdom?’ Mark the word chosen . And when 
the Son of God came to earth, did he not seek the 
poor and lowly ? Not that Jesus ever cast out the 
rich who came to him, but he went to the poor.” 

They talked long and earnestly, and Homer’s 
eyes lighted up with holy joy as he told of the 
mercies of his God, and tried to win the weary 
soul to a hope and faith in a God of infinite love. 

Promising to call again soon, Homer took leave 
of the sick man and his aged wife, first inquiring 
where he might find their son. He was told that 
Frank was hoeing in the garden, and thither he 
proceeded. 

This young man, Frank Allen, was the first con- 
vert under Homer’s preaching, and consequently 


or, Flossie’s violet. 107 

was very dear to him, as the first fruits of his 
ministry. 

Frank was busily engaged, but at Homer’s re- 
quest for a few minutes’ conversation, they went 
and sat down in the shade of a large apple tree. 
Presently Homer said : 

“I have just learned that your place is mort- 
gaged ; will you not let me help you ? I shall be 
glad if you will let me pay off the mortgage, and 
will consider me your banker while you are in 
trouble.” 

Frank had been fanning himself vigorously 
with his straw hat, but he paused suddenly at this 
unexpected speech, and a ruddy flush mounted to 
his brow, as he replied : 

“ I deeply appreciate your kindness, sir, but you 
are not responsible for our troubles, and it would 
not be right to expect you to do so much.” 

“ Ah,” said Homer, smiling, “ you do not wish 
to make me disobedient to my Master, do you? 
His command is, that we 4 bear one another’s bur- 
dens.’ I wish you would view this in the proper 
light, — you would not refuse to accept a favor 
from a brother according to the flesh. We are 
brothers in the kingdom and patience of God’s 
dear Son ; and shall we count His blood of little 
value ? ” 

Frank was silent a moment ; when he raised liis 


108 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


eyes they were brimming with tears, which did 
not shame his manhood. 

“I will accept your offer, sir,” he said, “upon the 
condition that you will let me repay the money 
when I am able. Money can be repaid, but for 
the kindness which prompted the offer I shall be 
your debtor forever. It will cause my father’s 
days to end in peace, and prove to him than Chris- 
tianity is more than a name, and that God is not a 
God of wrath, but of love” 

It was with a light heart that Homer pursued 
his homeward way; his was a heart upon which 
the sorrows of the race deep inroads made, and he 
was thankful for his abundant wealth, which 
made it possible for him to lift many burdens 
from weary shoulders. 

His way home led past the cemetery, and he 
decided to stop and see if some flowers, which his 
mother had recently planted upon his father’s 
grave, needed attention. 

The grave he sought was at the farther end of 
the cemetery, and he passed along, reading, as he 
had often done before, the name upon each monu- 
ment, musing meanwhile upon the history of each 
silent occupant, for all who lay here had been 
friends and neighbors. 

Finally he came to the marble monument erect- 
ed by Dr. Evert, and pausing, read : 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 109 ' 

“TO THE MEMORY OF 

ARCHIE CARLISLE. 

AGED THIRTEEN YEARS, EIGHT MONTHS AND TWO DAYS. 

He was faithful unto death, and died in the hope 
of a glorious resurrection , 

‘ WHEN JESUS COMES.’ ” 

Tears sprang to Homer’s eyes when he remem- 
bered the sorrowful life of him who lay beneath, 
and he thanked God that he had been instru- 
mental in leading the desolate child to the hope of 
at last being crowned a son of the living God. 

Presently he heard soft footfalls on the grass ; 
and looking around he beheld Edna, a sweet, 
white-robed vision, bearing in her arms a white 
moss rose which she meant to plant upon her 
brother’s grave. 

Homer courteously raised his hat, and she de- 
posited her fragrant burden upon the grass, and 
holding out her hand to him, said, sweetly: “I 
know of no more appropriate place in which to 
thank you, as I have long desired to do, for your 
kindness to him who lies in this grave, and 
through him to me.” 

Then seeing the wondering look in Homer’s 
brown eyes, she explained : 

“ It was you who brought him into the Sunday- 
school, and made him acquainted with Mrs. Evert,. 


110 EDNA CARLISLE; 

and from that meeting all the happiness of our 
lives has come.” 

“ Then,” said Homer, “ your thanks are due to 
her and not to me.” 

Edna looked at him with those thrilling dark 
blue eyes of hers, and said earnestly : 

“ God is my witness, I do thank her most fer- 
vently; but I have been taught to look also to 
first causes.” 

Homer replied : “ Then the first cause is the 

religion of our Lord, which has made her the 
noble woman that she is.” Changing the sub- 
ject, he said lightly: 

“Will you permit me to plant your flower for 
you ? ” 

She directed him where to place it, and seated 
herself beside the grave, fanning her face with her 
broad-brimmed hat. 

Soon the fragrant, white blossoms with their 
mossy covering were nodding over the head of the 
grave, and she put out her hand caressingly, 
saying : 

“ I think moss roses are so beautiful. Do you 
know how they came to have moss on them ? ” 

“ Ho,” he smilingly replied. “ I have always 
admired them on account of that singularity, but 
I am not sufficiently instructed in fairy lore, to be 
able to guess how they came by their mossy cov- 
ering.” 

Edna laughed softly and said, “It is such a 


OK, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


Ill 


pretty story, I must no longer permit you to re- 
main in ignorance of it. 

“ Well , once upon a time , the rose, which is a 
native of the south, was transplanted to a colder 
■clime, and it grew sick in the cold blast, and pined 
for the blue skies of its sunny southern home. 
Now all flowers are said to possess a god-parent, 
and the rose chose the nightingale for hers. When 
the nightingale came to inquire how it could min- 
ister to her happiness, she said : ‘ I am dying with 
■cold.’ Then the nightingale speedily flew to the 
brook, and returned with bits of moss, with which 
it covered the rose to keep out the cold. Since 
then the rose has become accustomed to our cold 
clime, and many of them have thrown off their 
mossy covering, but some still retain it, and we 
call them moss roses.” 

Homer smiled, and bowed, saying : 

“ I thank you for your pretty story. I have al- 
ways admired the moss rose ; now it will seem to 
me doubly beautiful, and will always be associ- 
ated in my mind with her who has just told me of 
its origin.” 

“ I am very fond of flowers,” he continued, “ and 
often wonder how any one can doubt the goodness 
of God, who has so beautifully adorned the earth 
for our delight.” 

There was a sweet, dreamy smile upon Edna’s 
lips as she said: 

“I often wonder if there will be flowers in 


112 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Heaven. Surely Heaven will contain all things 
most precious and beautiful. But will we find 
there the pansies, and the violets, and all our hum- 
ble favorites ? ” 

Homer had been gazing in the distance : now his 
eyes shone upon her so brightly, they seemed to 
have caught a radiance from the Hew Jerusalem. 
He replied : “We may not tell, but through the 
gates ajar, we catch a glimpse of the Bose of 
Sharon and the Lily of the Valley; that flower 
which was bruised for our transgressions, yet gave 
forth the sweeter perfume, and is now blooming in 
more than former loveliness, the chief adornment of 
the Heavenly City.” 

A silence, deep and sweet, fell between them,, 
and they sat there, each lost in blissful musings. 
Finally, Edna exclaimed : “ Why, the sun is set- 
ting ! I must be going home. Did you see Earl 
Whitney to-day ? He went to your house this af- 
ternoon, but I thought perhaps he did not meet 
you, as I found you here.” 

“ I did not see him,” said Homer, assisting her 
to rise ; “ but if you will allow me to accompany 
jyou home, perhaps I may find him there.” 
i She gave smiling assent, and they silently bade 
farewell to a happy hour — an hour never forgotten 
by either, but always remembered by Homer a& 
the time when he gave his heart to this white-robed 
girl ; and he dedicated to her the following lines. 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 

“ A violet in her lovely hair, 

A rose upon her bosom fair ; 

But oh, her eyes ! 

A lovelier violet disclose, 

And her red lips the sweetest rose 
That’s ’neath the skies.” 


114 


EDNA CARLISLE; - 


CHAPTER XI. 

“LOVE AND LOVE ONLY, IS THE LOAN EOR LOVE.” 

“ Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 

And men below, and saints above ; 

For love is Heaven, and Heaven is love.” 

One morning when Edna and Flossie returned 
from a ramble, Mrs. Evert said to Edna : 

“ Earl has just returned from the post-office, and 
has brought you a letter, my dear.” 

Edna took up the missive and a shadow crept 
over her face, as she recognized her mother’s hand- 
writing. 

After reading it she said with a soft little sigh : 

“ It is from mother ; she wishes me to come to 
see her.” 

“I do not wonder,” said Mrs. Evert, smiling. “I 
think it a very natural wish.” 

Flossie’s eyes flashed rebelliously. “ I think it 
a shame,” she said, “ that we should have to give 
Violet up so soon. I flattered myself she would 
he mine to have and to hold, until she must leave 
again for school.” 

Edna looked at Mrs. Evert pleadingly. 

“ Won’t you let Flossie go with me ? I wouldn’t 
mind going if she might accompany me.” 

Mrs. Evert replied: “Since it seems that you are 
both liable to be distracted with grief if you are 
separated, I suppose I must not refuse your re- 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


115 


quest ; and if it will give you pleasure, Earl and I 
will take you in the carriage, as I should be 
pleased to see your mother myself.” 

So it was decided, and Edna notified her mother 
"that they would come to visit her on the follow- 
ing Thursday. 

The evening before the day appointed for mak- 
ing their visit, Mrs. Evert went with the doctor to 
call upon some friends. 

Earl had gone out near the fountain to smoke a 
cigar. Presently he saw Edna and Flossie coming 
toward him, arm in arm. 

A striking contrast they formed. 

Edna calm and smiling, dressed in pure white, 
her raven tresses wound in a coronal above her 
shapely head. Flossie luxuriating in her first 
long dress — a pale sea green — her fair hair rip- 
pling over her shoulders, her dark eyes brimming 
with mischief, and the dimples coming and going 
roguishly, in her rosy cheeks. 

Earl threw away his cigar as they drew near. 

“ Why, Earl Whitney ! ” Flossie cried. “ How 
wasteful you are ! Old grandma Miller says, ‘wil- 
ful waste makes woeful want.’ And I’ll b — e — yes, 
I believe I’ll bet , that cigar cost a quarter, and you 
had just lighted it. Now the money you threw 
away there would have bought little Bridget 
Reardon a new calico dress, so she could have her 
old one washed. She told me she hadn’t a 
change.” 


116 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Earl laughed and inquired : 

“And did you supply her needs out of your 
yearly allowance for bon bons f ” 

Flossie laughed merrily. “No indeed I did n’t. 
I am too wise for that. I let my money continue 
to flow uninterruptedly into the confectioner’s cof- 
fers ; and I handed her case over to mamma, who 
sports a longer purse than mine.” 

“But indeed, Earl, I am ashamed of you men. 
Why, I know there are men in this neighborhood, 
who have spent hundreds of dollars for tobacco, 
who never gave twenty-five dollars to the mission- 
ary cause in their whole lives.” 

“ And how much has my fair cousin given the 
cause ?” said Earl, pinching her cheeks. 

“ I gave ten dollars last May,” she answered tri- 
umphantly. 

“ From your own allowance ? ” 

“ Certainly not. I begged it from papa.” 

“Oh, you self-sacrificing little creature,” said 
Earl. “ Don’t come preaching to me until you are 
willing to practice what you preach.” 

Then turning to Edna he said : “ Do you also 
consider smoking a disagreeable vice? ” 

She smilingly replied : “ I certainly think it a 
very expensive and unlovely habit , and I am in- 
clined to think with Dr. Linderman, that if God 
had meant man to smoke, he would have made 
him with a chimney in the top of his head, for the 
smoke to go out at.” 


OK, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 117 

Half an liour was pleasantly spent in laughter 
and badinage, and then Edna silently flitted away 
to the pansy bed. 

Earl’s eyes followed her wistfully. He had come 
to the country meaning to tell her of his love, but 
it seemed harder to do than he supposed. 

“ He either fears his fate too much, 

Or his deserts are small, 

That puts it not unto the touch, 

To win or lose it all.” 

As the lines were flitting through his mind, a 
Tougish cheek was laid against own, and Flossie 
said softly : 

“Why don’t you tell her, Earl ? ” 

His face flushed and he inquired confusedly : 
•“Tell her what?” 

“That you love her, of course. Why Earl it is 
no secret, every creature on the place knows it; 
even my doves were talking about it when I fed 
tthem this morning.” 

“ See, Earl ! the moon is rising. Now I have n’t 
read so many novels without learning the value of 
moonlight in a case like this. I am going into the 
house to play all the love songs I can think of, and 
if you can’t win her under such favorable circum- 
stances, you are no cousin of mine.” 

She glided away, and Earl soon heard her sing- 
ing and playing “ Annie Laurie.” 

Edna was coming toward him over the soft, dewy 
grass, bearing in her hand a cluster of pansies. 


118 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


She paused beside him, speaking with a tone of 
surprise and disappointment in her voice : 

“ Has Flossie gone in ? I gathered these pansies* 
for her, they look so beautiful in her golden hair.” 

“ Stay ! ” said Earl. “ Won’t my hair serve for a 
background to show off the beauty of your flow- 
ers ? It is about the color of Flossie’s I believe.” 

He lowered his handsome head, and she, flush- 
ing daintily, laid the cluster against his bright 
waves of hair, saying : 

“Very pretty indeed; but they won’t stay there 
unless I hold them ; and I fear my arm would soon 
grow weary, so I will pin them to the lapel of your 
coat.” 

She was so intent upon her task, she never knew 
that for an instant his fair mustache was pressed 
lightly to her raven tresses. 

Then when their task was completed, he caught 
the dimpled hands in his large strong ones, and in 
a straightforward, manly fashion, he told her the 
story of his love, and won from her the confession 
of an answering love, and the promise that some 
time in the future, (not for several years, perhaps, 
but sometime in the sweet future,) she would wear 
his name. And Earl promised to wait content, so 
long as he had the assurance that his love was re- 
turned. 

Then he took from his pocket a ring, and with 
many fond words slipped it on her finger. 

“ When I bought this ring,” said he- “ I told 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


119 


myself if I were not permitted to place it on your 
finger, I would make a little grave and bury it ; 
and all my life I would watcli over it and tend it, 
just as I would watcli over the grave in my heart of 
my buried love.” 

She laughed softly. “ Why, Earl, I had no idea 
you were so sentimental. However, I fancy you 
would soon have learned to love some one else, and 
have forgotten your disappointment.” 

“No,” he replied solemnly. “I should never 
love any one else. I love you for your pure and 
noble aspirations ; for your firmness of character ; 
because you are one of the few who are in the 
world but not of it ; qualities which I greatly ad- 
mire, but do not possess. 

“ Pardon me, my love, if I say that in our world, 
the fashionable world I mean, I have met many 
women who were as fair to look upon as you; 
bright, and gay, and beautiful ; but they could 
never win my love. I think I unconsciously gave 
my heart to you when you were yet a little girl, 
and my love has grown with your growth, until 
many floods could not quench it. 

“ * The might of one fair face sublimes my love, 

For it hath weaned my heart from low desires. ” 

****** 

“ ‘ Forgive me, if I can not turn away 

From those sweet eyes that are my earthly Heaven, 

For they are guiding stars, benignly given, 


120 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


To tempt my footsteps to the upward way ; 

And if I dwell too fondly in thy sight, 

1 live, and love, in God’s peculiar light.’ ” 

Edna’s head was resting against his breast, and 
one soft white arm stole around his neck, as she 
said, with almost a sob in her voice : 

“ Oh Earl, if I could but lead you up to the true 
God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent.” 

“ Perhaps you may, my love ; ” he said, as he 
kissed her brow tenderly, reverently. “ Perhaps 
you may. When I am here with you and aunt 
Nellie and my uncle, who seem to live so fully in 
the light of Heaven, God seems very near, and his 
gospel the word of a Divine being. But when I 
go back to our world, my mother’s world, I mean, 
that laughs to scorn any law but their own wishes; 
then God seems a myth, and his Word a pretty 
fable.” 

Flossie was still playing when she heard them 
part at the hall door ; Edna going to her room, and 
Earl returning to pace in the moonlight beside the 
fountain, where he had won the promise true of 
the shy, sweet maiden of his choice. 

Flossie tripped out after him, and slipping her 
hand through his arm, paced to and fro with him. 

She knew his suit had prospered, and the very 
spirit of mischief danced in her eyes as she said : 

“ What did she say, Earl ? Did she promise to 
4 love you only, cling to you through evil and 
through good report, until death do you part ? ’ ” 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 121 

“ Ask her,” said Earl. “I am not at liberty to 
tell.” 

“Well, tell me what you said, then. Did you 
say like as Sir Algermon Sidney said, in the book 
I was reading the other day : 6 Behold me, darling, 
at your feet. I offer you the life-long worship of 
my heart. Bid me rise, to live in the beauty of 
your glorious eyes, or I will run my sword through 
my body, and never look upon the sunlight of 
heaven more.” 

“ Well, what did the lady say ? ” Earl inquired, 
with interest proportioned to the last clause. 

“ Say ! ” echoed Flossie scornfully. “ She told 
him she was in love with Sir Gilbert Harrington, 
and then he got mad and went away vowing he 
would be avenged for his blighted affections.” 

“How tell me, Earl, how you asked the momen- 
tous question. I want to know.” 

He laughed gayly, and slipping his arm around 
her waist, said mockingly : 

“My dear, inquisitive little cousin, I will tell 
you. I said : 

1 “ My eyes, how I love you ! 

You little sweet dove you, 

There is no one above you, 

My beautiful darling. 

“ Quite Grecian your nose is, 

Your cheeks are like roses,— 

So delicious— Oh, Moses I ’ ” 

But he got no further, for Flossie boxed his ears 


122 


EDNA CAKLISLE; 


and sprang away from him, saying indignantly : 

“ Earl Whitney, I think you are just as mean as- 
ever you can he to tell me such a falsehood as 
that, when I was so good to you, too, and played 
over, 4 Drink to me only with thine eyes,’ three 
whole times. But that is all the thanks match- 
makers get. I’ll never help you again, and I don’t 
love you one hit, so I don’t.” 

And she sped rapidly to the house, followed hy 
Earl’s mocking laughter. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


123 


CHAPTER XII. 
love’s thread of gold. 

“ Thy lids are the gentle cell, 

Where young Love blushing lies ; 

See ! she breaks from the shell ; 

She comes from thy tender eyes.” 

The next morning was the one appointed for 
their journey, and before sunrise Edna was awak- 
ened from a sound sleep by a kiss pressed upon 
her brow, and opened her eyes to see Flossie’s 
rosy face, and hear her say : 

“ Has my Violet forgotten that we are to start 
away very early this morning, that we may get to 
the end of our journey before the day grows hot ? ” 

Edna sprang up, and commenced to make a 
hasty toilet, assisted by Flossie, who was lavish 
with praise and criticisms ; but never by word or 
look showed that she knew ought of Edna’s be 
trothal. 

Finally, when she was arrayed in a pale blue' 
morning dress, that was elaborately trimmed with 
lac£, and which Flossie pronounced just lovely, 
and so becoming, they went out into the flower 
garden, as was their custom, to gather flowers for 
the breakfast table. 

Presently Earl joined them there, and after 
passing the compliments of the morning, he said to- 
Flossie, who was busily engaged in artistically ar~ 


124 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


ranging a spray of white jesmine and a cluster of 
violets in Edna’s liair : 

“ Still at your favorite pastime, Flossie ? ” 

It was an unwise remark, as Earl soon felt, for 
Flossie echoed sarcastically : 

“ 4 Still at it,’ indeed ! Did you suppose I was 
going to resign in your favor, and never put an- 
other flower in her hair because of that ? ” point- 
ing to his ring on Edna’s finger. “You might just 
as well understand first as last, that whoever gets 
my Violet has to take me, for I won’t be separated 
from her.” 

“A woeful incumbrance,” said Earl, laughing. 
“ However, I trust that time will tame even such a 
little spit-fire as yourself.” 

Edna’s eyes were demurely cast down, but her 
cheeks were flushing hotly ; and Flossie pointed to 
them, saying : 

“ I believe you told the truth last night, when 
you said : ‘ Her cheeks are like roses, so delicious 

— Oh, Moses.’ ” 

Flossie !” cried Earl, amusement and surprise 
in his voice, “ what spirit of mischief does possess 
you ? ” 

She promptly replied, “I have been playing 
guardian angel to a pair of foolish lovers, and I 
feel rather elated at my success ; but as you do 
not seem to appreciate my company, I will dis- 
creetly take my leave.” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


125 


And before they could stay her, she was half 
way to the house, gayly singing : 

“ 1 And for bonnie Annie Laurie, 

I would lay me down and dee.’ ” 

Looking into Edna’s eyes, Earl saw they were 
full of tears, in striking contrast to her smiling 
lips. 

“What is it?” he inquired fondly. “Have her 
gay words wounded you, my tender dove ? ” 

“ No, oh, no,” she replied, while a shower of tears 
fell upon the rose she was picking to pieces. 

“My tears seem very near the surface to-day. 
Perhaps it is because of the sadness of my early 
life, but I can bear sorrow more calmly than joy.” 

Earl took the rose out of her hand, saying : 

“ This flower will be forever sacred to me, be- 
cause showered with your happy tears ; God grant 
I may never cause you to shed unhappy ones. 
But tell me, little girl, are you very glad that you 
are going to see your mother to-day ? ” 

“Yes, I suppose so — Oh, I don’t know. Earl,, 
will you think me very wicked, if I tell you that I 
do not love my mother very much — not half as well 
as I do aunt Nellie ? In my childhood I lost all 
respect for my mother, and it is in vain I tell my- 
self that she is leading a different life now, that 
she is now a faithful child of God. In vain I tell 
myself that God hath said: ‘Honor thy father 
and thy mother.’ I have a tender commiseration 


126 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


for her, for I know she has drunk the cup of sor- 
row to the dregs. I pity her with my whole heart, 
and am full of remorse when with her, that I can- 
not return her love ; but I cannot love her as a 
child should love her mother. I long ago forgave 
her cruelty to me, yet I shrink from her caresses. 
I presume if I had lived with her more, in late 
years, 1 should feel differently ; but I was only five 
years old when she married Mr. Slater, and from 
that time^on I have no pleasing memories of my 
mother. Oh, how frightened I was the first time I 
saw my mother drunk. If you had been mistreat- 
ed as I have been, I think you would not wonder 
that I am a monomaniac upon the subject of in- 
temperance. My mother has beaten me until I was 
too weak to stand, and then she would spurn me 
with her foot. I have seen a loved brother die 
from neglect and cruel treatment. Do you see that 
scar,” she said, showing a long scar upon her 
white arm. “ My step-father gave me that, because 
I refused to wait upon a customer at the bar ; the 
blood trickled to the floor from the cut, but my 
mother never interfered. They disagreed upon 
many subjects, but were agreed upon mistreating 
my brother and me.” 

Earl was white to the lips. “I shall hate her 
all my life,” he said. 

“ No,” she replied, “ perhaps I ought not to have 
told you, I never told anyone before ; somehow the 
words seem to come against my will. I have 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


127 


learned to hate the sin, and not the sinner ; and 
mother is so sorry for the past, and follows me 
with such yearning love, that unconsciously the 
tears spring to my eyes ; and I vow anew that I 
will spend my whole life in helping to suppress 
this evil, that has embittered my childhood, caused 
my brother’s early death, and wrecked my moth- 
er’s life. I mean to be as kind to my mother as 
circumstances will permit, but she has herself to 
blame, if the impressions she made upon my child- 
ish mind outlive all others.” 

They were moving towards the house now, and 
Earl said: “I think you have much cause for 
your hatred of intemperance. I abhor it myself ; 
but I believe a man may indulge in moderation, 
without injury to himself or others. A strong will 
and self-respect will prevent him from becoming a 
drunkard.” 

“Yes,” she replied, “but strong drink takes 
away the will and self-respect, and thus the cita- 
del is left unguarded. Doubtless all those who are 
now confirmed drunkards, began by thinking just 
as you do, that they had too much self-respect ever 
to get drunk. But that reminds me of an amusing 
circumstanee that once occurred in the life of Ne- 
braska’s great temperance lecturer. He was once 
speaking in an opera house to a large audience, 
and during the course of his lecture he made the 
assertion, that no man ever drank in moderation 


128 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


any length of time, without finally becoming a 
confirmed drunkard. 

“ A great, tall fellow rose in the back part of 
the house and said : 4 1 am a living testimony that 
your statement is false. I have drank a glass of 
whiskey every day of my life for forty years, and 
was never drunk in my life.’ 

“ To be sure he had no testimony to prove the 
truth of his statement, but it placed the lecturer in 
a novel position, and his audience was filled with 
wonder, to know how he would extricate himself. 
However, he seemed in no wise abashed, but qui- 
etly surveyed the speaker a moment, and then 
said : 

“‘I will tell you a little story, my friends, which 
may perhaps explain the singularity. 

“ ‘ Once two negro men were chopping wood be- 
side a small stream, and at noon they sat down 
upon its bank to eat their dinner. The stream 
seemed to be full of fish, and one, more bold than 
the rest, would swim near the bank and eat the 
crumbs which the men tossed him. Finally one of 
the men conceived the brilliant idea of dipping the 
j crumbs in whiskey, and thus make the fish drunk 
, so they might capture him. This they proceeded 
to do, but without avail. At last the other man 
said: 

“ ‘ 1 say, Pete, you’se a fool, to waste all that 
good whiskey on that fish. A fish liain’t got no 
brains, and you can’t make a thing drunk, unless 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


129 


ifs got brains? ‘Perhaps, my friend,’ said the 
lecturer, bowing, ‘ that may explain the singular- 
ity in your case.’ The tall man made no reply, 
but rushed out of the house, followed by the 
shoutings and derisive laughter of the audience.” 

“ I don’t envy him his notoriety,” said Earl, 
laughing. “Nevertheless, he may have told the 
truth.” 

“I do not believe it,” said Edna. Thereupon a 
laughing argument ensued, which lasted until they 
were summoned to breakfast. • 

Immediately after breakfast they started on 
their journey ; it was a very pleasant trip to them 
all ; and Earl and Flossie vied with each other in 
merriment and repartee. 

But we will precede them a little in their jour- 
ney, and renew our acquaintance with Mrs. Slater. 

She has changed much since we saw her last. 
Remorse has stamped its impress upon her face, 
and though but little more than forty years of 
age, her hair is almost as white as her mother’s. 
During the years that have intervened since we 
last saw her, she has supported herself by sewing 
for the villagers. Life seems very dark and 
dreary to her. Her only gleam of sunshine comes 
with Edna’s occasional visits, and yet they bring 
pain, too ; for she cannot ignore the fact that her 
child does not love her. And while in her heart 
she almost worships the beautiful creature, whose 


130 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


sweet young face so vividly recalls tlie memory 
of the girl’s father, Mrs. Slater sees Edna shrink 
from her touch, and realizes only too forcibly, that 
all the love and gratitude of the girl’s young heart 
is given to her new protectors, and her mother is 
only associated in her mind with the unhappy 
past. 

Through the dim vista of memory, which had 
been so beclouded by intemperance, Mrs. Slater 
could faintly discern that she had been unkind to 
Edna in those sad, dark years, when she was al- 
most insane with trouble and drink, and she 
moaned in agony when she remembered it. “But 
oh,” she wailed, “ if the child only knew how I 
love her ! if she only knew that I would freely give 
my heart’s blood, to wash from her memory her 
unhappy past ; that I pray for her every hour of 
my life ; that she fills my thoughts by day and 
my dreams by night, surely she would not meet 
me as she does, without one ray of gladness in her 
face, and leave me as unmoved as if going away 
for an hour’s walk.” 

She deserved it all, she knew ; had she not em- 
bittered the sweet fountain of her darling’s whole 
childhood, and impressed on the innocent heart of 
her child a frightful image of herself? 

.Sleep would not visit her eyelids the night pre- 
vious to Edna’s visit; she tossed restlessly upon 
her pillow, fought with the dark phantoms of the 


or, Flossie's violet. 


131 


past, and yearned with irrepressible longing for 
one kiss of love from the lips of her child. 

The miserable woman lifted her arms Heaven- 
ward in the darkness and prayed : 

“ Oh, my Hod ! help me to regain a little of the 
love I have lost. I know that I have sinned, but 
I have also suffered. Oh, merciful Father, help 
me to gain my child’s love. I ask for none of the 
riches or blessings of earth ; no other joy, only 
her love, only her love.” She kept repeating the 
words, as if they were the burthen of "some song. 

At last she fell into a fitful slumber ; when she 
awoke day was dawning. She hastily arose, for 
there was yet much to be done before her visitors 
came. For months every cent that she could spare 
had been spent to brighten the appearance of her 
home, in anticipation of this visit ; and yesterday 
had been spent in baking and preparing to enter- 
tain their guests well ; for Edna must have no occa- 
sion to be ashamed of aught in her mother’s home. 

By ten o’clock everything w^as completed to her 
satisfaction ; and she dressed herself in a neat 
black lawn, scrutinizing her face in the mirror, and 
wondering if Edna would think her old and ugly. 

She would not compare favorably with Mrs. 
Evert, she thought, jealously. 

When her toilet was completed she went out on 
the front porch, where her mother sat, anxiously 
watching for the arrival of their visitors. 

Looking down the street, Mrs. Slater descried a 


132 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


carriage in the distance, which she recognized as 
Dr. Evert’s. 

Her heart began to palpitate hurriedly, and such 
a trembling seized her, that she was obliged to go 
into the house and try to overcome her emotion. 

She heard the carriage stop at the gate, and 
heard her mother exclaim, joyously, “ They have 
come, Gertrude.” 

Then she heard the sound of merry voices and 
gay laughter nearing the house ; and she went to 
the door just as Edna stepped upon the porch, fol- 
lowed by the others. 

How like to her father the girl grew ! 

Mrs. Slater felt her heart give a violent leap and 
then stop, as if it never meant to throb again ; and 
in another moment she was pressing her child to 
her bosom; but felt even in that moment of joy 
that Edna scarcely returned her caress, and was 
anxious to be free from her loving clasp. Almost 
unconsciously, Mrs. Slater greeted the others and 
led the way into the little parlor ; but before she 
could offer her guests seats, she was so overcome 
with emotion, that she sank trembling into a chair 
and covered her face with her hands, while great 
tears trickled through her fingers. Then hastily 
rising, and begging them to excuse her a moment, 
she left the room. 

Edna looked after her in vague wonder, touched 
a little by her mother’s evident emotion. Perhaps 
Mrs. Evert more truly understood Mrs. Slater’s 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


133 


feelings than any one else; but all were moved, 
and Earl, whose sensitive temperament so readily 
entered into the feelings of others, longed to follow 
her and strive to comfort her. 

He had come to her house with his heart full of 
bitterness toward her, and felt, as he had told 
Edna, that he should hate her mother all his life. 
But he could no more have censured this sad-faced 
woman, even in thought, than he could have given 
a blow to one who was already stricken to the 
death. 


134 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XIII. 

AN OLD ENEMY AND NEW TERRORS. 

After having spent a very pleasant visit in Tay- 
lorville, Edna and Flossie returned home. On the 
afternoon of which we write, Dr. Evert was absent,, 
Earl had gone to Rochester, Mrs. Evert was taking 
an afternoon nap, and Flossie was busily engaged 
in painting. Edna watched her for awhile, then 
picked up a volume of poems, and went out on the 
lawn, and sat down in the shade to read. 

It was about five o’clock in the afternoon, and 
the air was full of that sultry heat which usually 
betokens a sudden storm. 

The heat was so intense that even poetry failed 
to take its accustomed hold upon her mind and 
heart. Finally a low growl from Leo, who was ly- 
ing at her feet, caused her to look up, and she saw 
the figure of a man coming rapidly toward her. 
Her heart gave a sudden leap of fear, for she per- 
ceived it was her step-father. An unreasonable 
alarm took possession of her, and never in her life, 
even when she had suffered the utmost cruelty at 
his hands, had he seemed to her such an object of 
terror as he did now. Leo seemed to feel that his 
mistress was in danger, for he began to show his 
teeth and growl ominously. 

Slater had not changed much since Edna had 
last seen him ; but his face bore the impress of 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


135 


continued indulgence in evil ways ; slie could see 
that the old, reckless look had deepened ; and she 
knew, too, that he was. under the influence of 
liquor, although his steps were steady. 

She arose as he drew near ; her face was deadly 
pale, and with one hand she held Leo by the col- 
lar. 

Slater paused when within a few feet of her, 
warned probably by Leo’s fierce growl. 

“What is the matter, girl?” said he. “You 
don’t think I am a ghost, do you ? Perhaps you 
thought I was dead, and have been mourning all 
these years over the loss of your loving father.” 
He laughed derisively. 

“ What, you still think I am a ghost ? Don’t 
stand there staring at me like that ; it isn’t very 
flattering. I don’t look like a resurrected corpse, 
do I?” 

Edna’s color was coming back to her cheeks 
now, and she replied scornfully : “ ISTo, I was only 

filled with wonder at the audacity you have 
evinced in coming here. What do you want ? ” 

“ O, nothing in particular. As I was passing 
along the road I saw you sitting here, and I 
thought I would stop and speak to you, for the 
sake of old times. I knew you would be glad to 
see me ; quite expected you would run and meet 
me while I was yet a great way off. Come, now, 
confess that you are delighted to see me once 
more.” 


136 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


. “Is it likely,” she said bitterly, “that I would 
be glad to see you who made the memory of my 
childhood a horror to me ? Who deprived me of a 
home and all that makes life worth having ? Was 
it not you who dragged my mother down to your 
own level ; and, by your cruelty and her neglect, 
crushed out my brother’s life ? ” 

She saw that his face was flushing angrily, but 
she went on recklessly : “I wonder you dare to 
shut your eyes for sleep, with such a load of guilt 
on your soul ; I truly believe there are men con- 
demned to penal servitude for life, who are less 
guilty before God than you are.” 

He strode toward her with clenched fist, saying, 
hoarsely : “ Perhaps you have forgotten that I 

can strike a heavy blow when I try ? ” 

“I~have not forgotten,” she replied, scornfully, 
“ that you are always ready to strike the defense- 
less. But I know your cowardly nature too well 
not to be aware that you will not come a step 
nearer, when I tell you that if you do so I will re- 
lease my dog, and he will successfully defend me 
from a human brute.” 

Slater had stopped only a few steps from her, and 
his expression and attitude betokened intense an- 
ger. 

“I did not come here to be insulted,” he said, 
“ and will not be, not if you have forty dogs. I 
have something here that will be a match for your 


or, Flossie’s violet. 137 

dog, I think,” and he pulled a revolver from his 
pocket. 

To Edna’s intense relief she saw Earl coming to- 
ward them, and she said: “Yonder comes Dr. 
Evert’s nephew ; I imagine you would not like to 
he seen threatening me with a revolver. It would 
not he very pleasant to he arrested.” 

Slater replaced his revolver in his pocket just as 
Earl reached them. “No, that wouldn’t suit my 
hook now, so I guess I won’t stop longer, as you 
are inclined to he disagreeable. I only meant to 
stop and see you for the sake of old times.” 

“What is it, Edna ?” said Earl, hurriedly. “ Has 
this man heen annoying you? ” 

Then, as she did not immediately reply, he 
turned to Slater, saying, impatiently : 

“ What is your business here, sir ? I demand an 
answer.” 

“ I came to see my daughter, there,” Slater re- 
plied doggedly. “ It isn’t a criminal offence, is it, 
for a man to want to see his child?” 

Edna, seeing the surprise in Earl’s face, said: 
“ He is my step-father.” 

Earl’s anger blazed in an instant ; he said : 
“ Have you not already brought sufficient misery 
into this girl’s life, without further tormenting her 
with your hateful presence ? If you had one grain 
of manliness left, you would never come near one 
you have so deeply injured. I advise you to leave 
here immediately ; and if it should ever occur to 


138 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


you to return, please remember that I am almost; 
always here ; and I have a good stout arm, aided 
by all that science can do to teach a fellow how 
to plant blows to the best advantage.” 

“I am going,” said Slater, sullenly, “not be- 
cause I am afraid of the arm you brag about, but 
because I intended to go any way; but first, let 
me tell that girl, that if she cares anything for her 
mother, she would better go to her, for she needs 
her attention.” 

He moved slowly away, and Earl watched him 
with angry eyes ; then turned, to find that Edna had 
sank back upon the seat, pale and trembling. 

“ Oh, Earl, what do you suppose he meant by the 
remark he made about mother! ” 

“ Nothing, I imagine, except that he hoped to 
alarm you. Evidently he succeded in that, for you 
are trembling like a frightened bird.” 

“ I think what he said about mother frightened 
me more than anything else, for his words seemed 
to convey a hidden meaning.” 

“Well,” said Earl, soothingly, “I would not 
worry about it. It is my impression he said that 
because he failed to annoy you otherwise ; how- 
ever, I would be very sorry if anything unpleasant 
should happen to your mother. I think I never 
met a person who claimed my sympathy as she 
unconsciously did ; and she seemed so fond of you, 
my darling, that I forgave her the past, because, ‘to 
her that loveth much, much shall be forgiven.’ 
Those are holy words, and I that speak them am 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


139 ; 


not a righteous man ; but they seem to me to suit 
your mother’s case.” 

While they were still talking the darkness be- 
gan to gather, and the clouds which had been low- 
ering threateningly in the west, came up almost in 
an instant of time ; while peal on peal of thunder 
seemed to shake the earth, and great drops of rain 
began to patter down. 

Edna arose in alarm. 

“Why,” cried Earl, “how careless of me not to- 
notice that the storm was upon us.” 

Then hastily taking off his coat, he threw it 
around her shoulders, saying : “Now run, or you 
will get wet.” 

She protested against taking his coat. 

“ Foolish little girl,” he said, “come on, or we 
will both get wet.” 

They had a wild run across the lawn, and rushed 
up on the veranda, breathless and laughing, just 
as Homer Atwood came running in from the stable,, 
where he had left his horse. 

“ Hello, Atwood ! ” cried Earl, “ did you bring 
this storm?” 

“ Quite the contrary,” said Homer, laughing ;; 
“ the storm brought me. I was returning from the 
city and reached here just in time to save myself 
from a wetting.” 

“Well, it is a true saying,” said Mrs. Evert, wha 
had come out on the veranda, “ that c it is an ill 
wind that blows nobody any good.’ See it veri- 


140 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


fied. That wind blew up the rain cloud; thus 
.securing us Homer’s presence.” 

“Edna, did you get wet? ” Earl inquired. 

“No,” she replied. “Your coat protected me; 
but you are wet; you ought to change your cloth- 
ing immediately.” 

“ Only a few drops of rain,” he said, “ that 
won’t hurt a strong, healthy fellow like me.” 

“ But if you pay no attention to the laws of 
health, you will not long remain a strong, healthy 
fellow.” 

Mrs. Evert laughed. 

“ Edna is a stickler for the laws of health, and 
to that fact the doctor attributes the perfect health 
which she enjoys. He says that if the rest of the 
world were as careful as she, there would remain 
little work for physicians to do.” 

“ I hold it my duty,” said Edna, “ to preserve 
my good health. And I have not lived so many 
years in the family of one of the best physicians 
in the state, without picking up some stray bits of 
information.” 

“You should see Edna’s doctor book,” said Mrs. 
Evert, smiling. “ She keeps a memorandum of the 
doctor’s manner of treating the diseases most 
prevalent, and says that if she should be taken 
sick while at school, she could prescribe for her- 
self. The doctor always laughs at her, but I be- 
lieve in his heart he is proud of her confidence 
in his professional ability.” 


or, Flossie’s violet. 141 

“Has uncle Wilfred returned yet?” Earl in- 
quired. 

“ Ho,” Mrs. Evert replied. “ And I feel very 
uneasy ; his horse is so spirited, I always feel ner- 
vous when he is away in a storm. Besides I had a 
frightful dream a little while ago, which shook up 
my nerves terribly. I had lain down on the sofa, 
and I fell asleep. I thought I heard the doctor 
call me as if he were in distress, and I could hear 
him moan, oh so pitifully ; I awoke terribly 
frightened, and my nerves have not calmed down 
yet.” 

“ Why, aunt Hellie,” cried Earl, laughing. “ I 
had no idea you were so superstitious. I warrant 
you were lying in an uncomfortable position, which 
caused your disagreeable dream.” 

“ I am not superstitious,” she said stoutly. “ I 
only said I had been frightened in my dream, and 
still felt nervous. But I won’t stay here to argue 
with you, you naughty boy, but will go and see if 
the cook has anything good for your supper, which 
may please you better than to hear about my 
dreams.” 

She had just gone in, and the others were still 
standing on the veranda, watching the rain, which 
was falling in torrents, when they saw Duke, Dr. 
Evert’s horse, coming down the road at a tremend- 
ous pace. His sides were heaving, and his eyes 
were wild and staring. He was dragging after him 
the remains of the demolished buggy, and it 


142 EDNA CARLISLE; 

needed but one glance to ascertain that an accident 
had occurred. 

Homer sprang off the veranda, saying: “I fear 
Dr. Evert has been injured; I will get my horse 
; and go and see.” 

Earl paused long enough to say : “ Edna, don’t 
be frightened. Go in the house and do not tell 
aunt Nellie of this, but try to detain her in there, 
until we ascertain what has happened.” Then he 
sprang out after Homer, and in another minute she 
saw them mounted and riding as if for their lives 
in the direction whence the runaway horse had 
*come. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


143 


CHAPTER XIY. 

THE LIGHTNING FLASHES EVIL TIDINGS. 

With trembling steps Edna went into the house. 
She had not yet recovered from the fright her step- 
father’s presence had caused her, and now she 
trembled, knowing not what new evil had befallen 
-them. 

She found Mrs. Evert busy giving directions con- 
cerning supper. Flossie came in immediately, 
saying : 

“ Hasn’t papa come in yet ? I heard him come 
kome. He was driving at a terrible rate, and I 
didn’t wonder much at his driving fast. Poor 
papa ! to have to be out in such a rain as this ! ” 

Edna’s face was very pale and Flossie ex- 
claimed : 

“ Why, Yiolet, what ails you? You look as if 
you had seen a ghost.” 

“ That is what my step-father told me this after- 
noon,” said Edna. 

She readily perceived that a recital of his visit 
would account to them for her pale cheeks, and at 
the same time chain their attention, until it was 
ascertained how much cause there was for alarm. 

“ Your step-father ? ” said Mrs. Evert in surprise. 

What do you mean, Edna ? ” 


144 EDNA CARLISLE ; 

Then she told them of his visit, in detail, trying 
to gain time. 

Mrs. Evert crossed the room and caressed Edna, 
saying: 

“ My dear child, I am very sorry this has oc- 
curred. I hoped you would never be annoyed by 
him again. I will tell the doctor of this, doubt- 
less — ” 

Just at that moment Edna heard Earl, at the 
front door, calling for her. She went readily to 
him, saying : 

“ Did you find him Earl ? Is he hurt ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Earl sadly, “ he is hurt ; but he is 
conscious, so it might have been worse. We do 
not know what the extent of his injuries is, but it 
is quite certain one of his arms is broken. Please 
go tell aunt Nellie as gently as you can. I must 
make preparations for bringinghim home.” 

A thick darkness covered the earth like a pall ; 
and the trees moaned and swayed beneath the 
terrible gusts of wind and rain. “ Oh, how horri- 
ble!” said Earl, with a shudder. “To think of 
uncle being wounded, and lying by the roadside in 
i the darkness and this pouring rain.” 

; Edna re-entered the dining-room, and explained 
to Mrs. Evert, as gently as possible, what had oc- 
curred. 

Flossie wept with grief and fright, but Mrs. 
Evert, though very pale, set about gathering to- 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


145 


gether the necessary articles to make the ride 
home as easy as possible to the sufferer. 

When Earl entered to announce that the car- 
riage was waiting, Mrs. Evert said : 

“ I will go with you, Earl. In our absence the 
girls must make all needful preparations.” 

While they are going to bring Dr. Evert home, 
we will go back a little in our story, and ascertain 
how the accident occurred. 

Dr. Evert had been driving rapidly homeward, 
hoping to escape the approaching storm. Just 
about two miles from home was a long, covered 
bridge, which was dark enough on the brightest 
days, but it looked exceedingly gloomy now, be- 
neath the lowering sky. 

When the doctor had driven about half way 
through the bridge, a man sprang out and caught 
the horse, with the usual demand of the foot-pad : 

“ Your money or your life.” 

Dr. Evert readily recognized the man, even in 
the waning light, and he exclaimed in surprise, 
“ Slater! ” 

“ Oh ! you know me, do you ? Then I guess I’ll 
deal with you on your own account. I didn’t in- 
tend to kill you ; but I confess I’d rather do that 
than have your money. Revenge is sweet, you 
know. And a man who persuades another man’s 
wife to leave him ought to expect to get killed 
some stormy night like this.” 

Dr. Evert heard the click of the revolver, and he 
10 


146 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


gave Duke a cut with his whip, which caused the 
high-mettled creature to spring forward with a 
tremendous hound ; at the same time a report rang 
out on the air, and the doctor felt the bullet graze 
his cheek. Then report after report followed in 
quick succession, doing no damage except to fur- 
ther frighten the horse, over which Dr. Evert en- 
tirely lost control, though he strove desperately 
for the mastery. 

After plunging wildly along for a short time, the 
buggy upset y throwing Dr. Evert violently against 
a small tree, and he instantly lapsed into uncon- 
sciousness. 

How long he lay there he never knew. When 
consciousness returned, he was suffering severely, 
and the rain was coming down in torrents. The 
darkness was so intense he could distinguish noth- 
ing except when lurid flashes of lightning lighted 
up the scene. 

In a short time (but seeming like ages to him) 
he heard horses galloping down the road. 

Perhaps it was some one coming to rescue him, 
he thought. He feared they would not see him 
in the darkness, and as they drew near he at- 
tempted to call to them, but was surprised to find 
out how weak he was. 

However, they discovered him, and to dismount 
and reach his side was the work of but an instant. 

After ascertaining, as nearly as possible, the ex- 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


147 


tent of Ms injuries, Earl returned home for help, 
leaving Homer with Dr. Evert. 

That waiting in the wild, stormy night seemed 
an interminable length of time to the poor sufferer 
and his anxious watcher. Finally they saw the 
others coming, and they were driving at a rate 
which told those who had been waiting that not a 
moment of time had been lost. 

Mrs. Evert sprang to the ground the instant the 
carriage stopped, and knelt beside her husband, 
exclaiming : 

“ Oh, Wilfred ! are you hurt very much ? ” 

“ I can not tell,” he replied faintly; “I have only 
strength to be thankful that I am alive. I know 
one of my arms is broken, and think likely some 
of my ribs are, but further I can not say.” 

As soon as he was placed in the carriage, Homer 
said : 

“ I will ride to the city for a doctor. Who would 
you prefer that I should bring ? ” 

Dr. Evert mentioned his preference, and Mrs. 
Evert said : 

“ God bless you, Homer, you are a true friend in 
time of need. I am very sorry you should need to 
go ; your clothes must be very wet.” 

He replied, “ A little more rain can’t hurt me 
now, and I will soon return, for my horse is a good 
traveler.” 

They drove home very slowly, for the doctor’s 
injuries would not permit of a rapid gait. When 


148 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


they arrived there, they found everything prepared 
for the comfort of the sufferer, and Mrs. Evert felt 
thankful for Edna’s inquiring mind, which had 
always led her to ask and obtain much information 
from the doctor, which was very useful now. 

In an incredibly short space of time, Homer re- 
turned with the city physician, who pronounced 
Dr. Evert’s injuries to be a broken arm and three 
broken ribs ; otherwise uninjured except for a few 
bruises and the soreness naturally the result of a 
severe fall. But it would be long before he would 
be able to attend to his professional duties again, 
and many of the suffering poor would long for the 
sight of their old, cheery physician. 

Dr. Evert had inherited a large estate, and had 
married a young lady who, besides possessing 
many amiable qualities, was also dowered with a 
large fortune. Therefore it was not necessary for 
him to practice medicine for a livelihood. He 
loved the noble profession, but not for filthy lucre’s 
sake, as many a poor man could testify, who, on 
convalescing, would mention the subject of his 
bill, and receive the answer, 

“ Get well, my friend, that is all I ask of you.” 
Adding, “ I can always talk with ease of that 
Country where the inhabitants shall no more say, 
4 1 am sick,’ if my patients know that I am not 
laying up a large bill for them to pay when they 
get well.” And many souls dated their strivings 
after a higher life to the conversations held with 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


149 


Dr. Evert at their sick bed. But now the kind 
doctor, whose heart was ever pitiful for the suffer- 
ings of others, must himself suffer many days be- 
fore they could reasonably expect convalescence. 

Homer was anxious to return home, as his 
clothes were quite wet, and he also feared his 
mother would be alarmed at his non-arrival ; but 
Mrs. Evert begged him to remain with them, say- 
ing she would send a messenger to apprise his 
mother of what had occurred, and Earl would fur- 
nish him with a change of clothing. 

To this arrangement he consented, and had just 
dressed and returned to the sick-room to offer his 
services in caring for their patient, when there 
came a loud clanging at the door bell. 

Earl went to answer the summons, and when he 
returned, Edna saw that there was an apprehensive 
look on his face. 

He came immediately to her side and handed 
her a telegram. 

She opened the envelope and read : 

“ Your mother is dangerously ill. Come at 
« once .” 

Her face grew pale, and she thrust the telegram 
into Earl’s hands, saying, 

“ That man was right in saying my mother needs 
my attention. This is some more of his evil 
work.” 


150 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


CHAPTER XV > 

THE BLEEDING HEART UNVEILED. 

For a moment after reading the telegram Edna 
looked so still and white Earl feared she would 
faint, and Mrs. Evert drew near to learn the cause 
of her distress. Earl hurriedly explained, and 
Edna said piteously : 

“ Oh, Auntie ! what can I do ? ” 

“ Go at once, my child,” Consulting her watch y 
Mrs. Evert added : “ It is now a quarter till nine , 
at half past nine the train is due at Rochester. 
You must endeavor to catch that train ; Earl will 
accompany you.” 

Edna lifted her eyes to Earl’s face with a look 
which plainly said, “Will you go with me ? ” 
Answering her inquiring glance, he said : 

“ Certainly, I will accompany you ; my place is 
beside you now, to shield you from danger if need 
be, and to help you if possible.” 

He never forgot the grateful look she gave him, 
as she left the room to prepare for the journey. 

After changing her dress for one more suitable 
for traveling, Edna knelt and implored the help 
and guidance of Him who has promised to be 
strength and wisdom to those who seek his aid. 

Having laid her sorrows at the foot of the cross, 
she arose calm and composed. 

O, that sublime faith! by which the child of 


ok, Flossie's violet. 


151 


God overleaps the barriers of distance and mor- 
tality, and converses with the King of kings and 
Lord of lords. 

As Edna was about to leave her room, ready for 
the journey, Mrs. Evert came in, and kissing the 
young girl tenderly, said : “ My dear child, I am 
deeply grieved that this fresh trouble has come 
upon you ; but I know that you will bear it brave- 
ly, as becomes a child of God ; not forgetting that 
prayer brings all blessings from the skies, and 
though the dark, cold river of death divides us 
from our Savior, yet even the lightest whisper will 
be heard by him.” 

Laying a roll of bills in Edna’s hand, Mrs. Evert 
continued: “Here is some money which you may 
find very useful in caring for your mother ; if you 
should need more while there, do not hesitate to 
notify me.” 

“ O, Aunt Nellie !” Edna said, with tears in her 
eyes, “ you are always so kind to me. How can I 
ever repay your tender care ? I believe that you 
are the best friend God ever raised up for a father- 
less girl.” 

“ Well, my dear, I think if need were, my love 
for you would stand a stronger test than that im- 
posed by the giving up of a little money which 
never cost one effort of mine to gain, and which I 
will never feel the loss of. You occupy in my 
affections the position of a dearly loved daughter, 


152 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


and we intend you shall in everything share 
equally with Flossie.” 

Edna’s eyes were suffused with tears as she re- 
plied, “I can never hope to requite your kindness, 
but I would be most unworthy did I not endeavor 
to comfort other desolate souls as I have been com- 
forted.” They were descending the stairs now, 
and Earl, who was standing in the lower hall, ex- 
claimed : 

“ Hasten, Edna, the carriage is waiting, and we 
have barely time to catch the train.” 

She went into the room to bid Dr. Evert a hasty 
good-bye, and Homer thought he never saw her 
look so beautiful before. 

Her black dress set off the pallor of her cheeks, 
which were usually so daintily tinted, and as she 
witnessed the suffering of him who had so long 
been her friend and protector, tears of sympathy 
sprang to her eyes and trembled on her long black 
lashes. Yet withal, her face wore the calm, tender 
sheen of prayer, and looking at her thus, Homer’s 
heart cried out for the love of this peerless maiden, 
as the greatest blessing earth could hold for him ; 
but he calmly pressed her hand in bidding her 
good-bye, and expressed, in a few well chosen 
words, his sympathy for her in her trouble. Then 
saw her depart in the wild, stormy night, with all 
the powers of his soul centered in one prayer, that 
God would bless this girl, who had grown so 
strangely dear to him. 


OK, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


153 


He never for an instant thought of the possibility 
of her being engaged to Earl; perhaps if he had, 
his heart would have throbbed more heavily than 
it did. 

What a wild night it was, making their unknown 
sorrow seem yet more ominous, by the brooding 
darkness. 

They reached the depot just in time to catch the 
train, and soon passed over their fifteen mile 
journey, and obtained a hack to take them from 
the depot to where Mrs. Slater lived. 

As they drew near the familiar place, Edna’s 
anxiety became intense. 

“Oh, Earl!” she said, “ suppose we should be 
too late. My heart is filled with remorse that I 
have not loved my mother better. The last time I 
was here, it seemed as if she thought I had ceased 
.to love her, and it was breaking her heart. I did 
not realize how dear she is to me until it seemed 
probable that I might lose her; and now nature 
asserts her claims.” 

The hack stopped at the gate, and Earl said, 
with an exquisite thrill of tenderness in his voice : 

“ My sweet, holy dove ! would to Heaven I could 
shield you from this sorrow by bearing it myself. 
I had hoped to be able to protect you from all the 
storms of life, but here I am powerless, and God 
.alone can help you.” 

Then he led her to the open door, where her 
grandmother stood waiting to receive them. 


154 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


She clasped Edna in her arms, and with tears 
stealing down her cheeks, exclaimed : 

“ Oh, I am so glad you have come ! I feared 
you would not get here to-night. Your mother 
keeps calling for you all the time.” 

Edna said, reproachfully : 

“ Oh, Grandma, why didn’t you send for me 
sooner ? ” 

“I wanted to,” she replied, “but until your 
mother became delirious, she insisted you should 
not be sent for. She believed she was going to die, 
and when I wanted to dispatch for you, she said ; 
‘ No, you must not. I would be glad to clasp my 
child in my arms, and ask her to forgive the past; 
but that would only grieve her, and I have never 
sown aught but thorns in her pathway. When I 
am dead, you may send for her ; and tell her my 
last conscious moment was spent in praying for 
her and blessing her. Tell her I died in the full 
assurance of God’s forgiveness; and I hope -when 
she stands beside my lifelesss form, she will forget 
the sorrowful past, and remember me only as I was 
when she was a little child, before my life was 
cursed by sin.’ ” 

Edna could bear no more, but sped fleetly into 
her mother’s room, and kneeling beside the bed, 
her tears fell fast upon the bruised, feverish face 
of the sufferer. 

“ Oh, Mother, don’t you know me ? ” she cried in. 
alarm. 


OK, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


155 


“Edna has come, Gertrude,” said her grand- 
mother, gently. 

Mrs. Slater’s mind had drifted far beyond the 
shore of reason ; but that beloved name still had 
power over her wandering mind, and seemed to re- 
call her last conversation with her mother. 

She gave a weary gesture and said, pathetically : 

“ No, Mother, you must not send for Edna, not 
until I am dead ;” then shuddering, “O, it is so 
cold and dark here, and the rain beats pitilessly 
upon me ; but thank God, my darling walks in 
the sunlight.” 


156 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XVI. 

‘‘coming events cast their shadows before.” 

“ And the strange inborn sense of coming ill, 

That oft-times whispers to the haunted breast, 

In a low tone which naught can down or still, 

’Mid feasts or melodies a secret guest ; 

When dost that murmur wake, that shadow fall ? 

Why shakes the spirit thus ? ’Tis mystery all ! ” 

Mrs. Slater’s mind liad wandered so far beyond 
the shore of reason that her faithful watchers 
feared that nothing would ever recall her to a 
sense of earth. 

She seemed as one groping in the darkness and 
calling pitifully for help. Recognizing no one, she 
clung to Earl’s hand and begged him not to leave 
her. Calling him Oscar, she cried pathetically : 

“ Oh, don’t leave me again ; I have been out in 
the rain ever since you went away. You won’t 
leave me alone in the storm, will you?” 

Her terror and despair seemed so real that the 
eyes of her nurses were often wet with tears. 

Once when standing near the head of the bed, 
Edna was weeping bitterly, and some of the pearly 
drops falling upon her mother’s face, Mrs. Slater 
put up her hand and wiped them away, saying, pit- 
eously : 

“ Don’t you see how it always rains on me ? But, 
thank God, the sunlight always falls on my dar- 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


157 


ling. Do you know my daughter? She is the 
lovliest girl ever was seen, and she always walks 
in the sunlight. I would be content to walk alone 
in the darkness, if I had but her love, only her 
love,” repeating the words more and more softly, 
until they died away in a whisper, “ Only her love,, 
only her love.” 

As time went on, she spoke only in disconnected 
sentences, without one gleam of reason. 

The doctors pronounced her malady inflamma- 
tion of the brain, caused by a violent blow upon 
the head. 

Edna’s grandmother explained to them, that 
on the morning of the catastrophe she had been 
absent from home for a short time, and on return- 
ing found Mr. Slater there engaged in angry dis- 
pute with his wife. His tones were loud and 
threatening ; and just as she entered the house, he 
struck Mrs. Slater a violent blow across the head 
with his revolver, which caused her to fall insensi- 
ble to the floor. During the excitement that fol- 
lowed, he made good his escape ; but it had been 
long before consciousness returned to Mrs. Slater, 
and then it only lasted a short time ere fever set 
in, and she lapsed into delirium. 

The medical information that Dr. Evert had im- 
parted to Edna was of invaluable aid to her now, 
and she nursed her mother with the steadiness of 
one trained to the care of sick persons. 

Remorse lay heavy on her heart, and her cheeks 


158 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


gradually grew whiter and whiter, as her mother’s 
^ase became more hopeless. 

Earl importuned Edna to have a hired nurse, but 
she put out her hand with an appealing gesture. 

“ Hinder me not ; this is the only atonement I 
can make.” And Earl respected her wishes and 
said no more, but strove to lighten her duties as 
much as possible. 

The attendant physician had said the case was 
.hopeless, unless the patient could fall into a nat- 
ural slumber; but day after day and night after 
night passed by, and still she tossed feverishly on 
her pillow. Opiates seemed to have little effect, 
ior, through the slumber induced by them, she 
moaned pitifully, and her watchers longed and 
prayed that natural sleep might visit her. 

After days and nights of weary waiting (during 
which time Edna could scarcely be persuaded to 
leave her mother’s bedside for an hour) the wish- 
ed-for slumber came. Edna was sitting on the bed 
bathing her mother’s face in arnica diluted with 
cold water, and the process seemed especially 
soothing to the patient ; finally she arose to a sit- 
ting posture and throwing her arms around her 
daughter’s neck, and resting her head upon Edna’s 
bosom, fell into a gentle slumber. 

Earl was standing at the fookof the bed, and he 
and Edna exchanged glances of delight; but as 
minute after minute ticked away, he saw that the 
weight was more than the girl’s frail form could 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


159 


•bear. He went to her side and softly inquired : 

“ Could you not lean against me ? ” 

“ I dare not move,” she replied. “ The slightest 
movement on my part would wake her, and this 
may save her life.” 

The moments flew swiftly enough, though seem- 
ing quite the contrary to the poor girl, who stead- 
ily held her burden, while every nerve was 
stretched to its utmost tension, in her effort to re- 
main perfectly quiet. 

Finally, as the clock indicated that an hour had 
elapsed since her mother had fallen asleep, Edna 
felt a ringing in her ears, the room seemed whirl- 
ing around, and she made an appealing gesture to 
Earl, who was intently regarding her. He sprang 
do her support, and the movement awakened Mrs. 
Slater, who opened her eyes, fixed them on Edna’s 
face and spoke one word : “ Blossom.” 

It was the pet name by which Edna had been 
called when she was a tiny child. 

At that word she rallied and exclaimed, exult- 
antly : 

“ Thank God ! oh, thank God ! my mother knows 
me.” 

Mrs. Slater smiled wonderingly. 

“ Have I been so ill I did not know you ? ” 

“ Yes, dear Mother, you have, but you have had 
a good sleep now, and that will save your life. 
And, oh,” she added, sobbing hysterically, “ if 
you had died I believe it would have killed me.” 


160 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“ Thank God,” Mrs. Slater murmured, with tears 
stealing down her cheeks. In a few minutes she 
fell asleep again. 

Edna dropped down beside her mother like a 
weary child, and both slept until awakened by 
the entrance of the doctor. He instantly perceived 
the favorable change in his patient, and said to 
Mrs. Slater: 

“You will get well now, never fear; but you 
owe your life to good nursing. You have had the 
most faithful nurse I ever saw.” 

Mrs. Slater pointed to Edna’s white cheeks, and 
said, mournfully, “ So pale.” 

“My cheeks will regain their color now that you 
are getting well,” said Edna, lightly. 

Mrs. Slater’s eyes again filled with tears, and 
she again said softly, “ Thank God ! ” and the hap- 
piest smile Edna ever saw on her mother’s face 
dwelt there then. 

Mrs. Slater’s convalescence was so rapid, that 
her complete return to health speedily became an 
assured fact. Earl returned to Dr. Evert’s when 
quite sure there was no more danger to be appre- 
j hended. 

| Those days of convalescence were the happiest 
Mrs. Slater had known for years ; and in the long 
days of constant companionship with her daugh- 
ter, many chords of sympathy between them were 
touched upon, which would strengthen as the day& 
go on. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


161 


Once, when Edna was speaking of her literary 
aspirations and the good she hoped to accomplish, 
Mrs. Slater said : 

“ I am so glad, my daughter, that you became a 
Christian while young. Your religion has grown 
with your growth, until you not only have strength 
to walk erect in the Christian’s pathway, but you 
can help others therein. I waited until I had sown 
sin and sorrow broadcast, and now I can only 
cling weakly to God’s hand, and pray that he will 
guide my trembling steps into paths of peace and 
pleasantness at last.” 

Before her mother had entirely recovered, Edna 
was obliged to leave, to return to school. 

This was her last term, and many weary hours 
of hard study lay before her. Flossie was to ac- 
company her this year, an arrangement that filled 
both of the girls with delight. 

Edna stayed with her mother until within a few 
days of the opening of school. When she returned 
home she found Mrs. Evert had made every prep- 
aration that was needed in hers and Flossie’s 
wardrobe, and nothing was left but to enjoy those 
last few days of home life to their fullest extent. 

Dr. Evert was almost well now, and the entire 
family took daily rides in the big, roomy carriage, 
the time seeming to them shorter and sweeter, and 
the scenes appearing more beautiful, because they 
knew it would be long before they would be able 
to enjoy them together again. 


162 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


The last day of their stay Earl’s face wore such 
a sad, yet tender, wistful look, that Flossie could 
not refrain from putting the question, “ Why so 
sad and pale, fond lover ? ” as she passed where 
he and Edna were standing talking. 

Earl turned to Edna with a smile. “ I do feel 
unaccountably depressed over this parting. A 
sadness is weighing my spirit down, which I can 
not shake off. I can now fully appreciate Tenny- 
son’s beautiful lines : 

“ Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, 

Tears from the depth of some divine despair 
Kise in the heart and gather in the eyes, 

In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, 

And thinking of the days that are no more.” 

That evening Homer Atwood came over to bid 
the girls good-bye ; and they spent a very happy 
evening together, with music and song, enlivened 
by gay conversation, and enjoying themselves 
with all the gay restlessness of youth, that is ever 
expectant of, it knows not what. 

Once during the evening, on raising her glance 
suddenly, Edna beheld Homer looking at her with 
such a thrilling tenderness in the depths of his 
dark eyes, that a rosy bloom flushed her fair face, 
she scarcely knew why. 

Homer observed the blush, and longed to tell 
this peerless maiden of his love, and discover if he 
was beloved in return. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


163 


Hut no ; lie would wait till her school days were 
over, for the present he would trammel her with no 
promises ; but when her school days were done, if 
he were so fortunate as to win her love, he would 
transplant this sweet, white rose to the garden of 
his heart. 

He had likened her in his mind to a white rose, 
ever since they had planted the rose on her broth- 
er’s grave. There is a white rose nestling in her 
raven tresses now, and he longs to possess it, to 
wear against his heart when she is far away. 

Stooping, he said to her : 

“Miss Edna, the sin of covetousness has entered 
my soul. I presume there are other flowers as 
beautiful, but that white rose, with its green leaves 
nestling so lovingly in your hair, seems to me the 
most beautiful flower I ever saw. Are you suffi- 
ciently generous to bestow it upon me ? It would 
be a sweet reminder of this happy evening.” 

“Do you need a reminder?” she smiling in- 
quired. Then she gave him the flower he craved, 
and he immediately transferred it to his breast. 

Earl observed the action and frowned, then 
smiled. Why should he place any restrictions on 
her actions, even in thought. She loved him; what 
did her giving away a flower to another matter ? 
Besides, Homer was her friend ; moreover, he had 
been her brother’s friend. He (Earl) would think 
no more about it. But he could not help wonder- 
ing if he had not discovered Homer’s secret. Surely 


164 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


his eyes spoke love’s language, though his tongue 
was silent. 

After Homer had gone, Edna saw Earl regarding 
her so sadly and wistfully, that tears involuntarily 
sprang to her eyes, and she put her hand on his 
arm, saying: 

“ What is it, Earl ? ” 

“Will you promenade with me in the moon- 
light?” he inquired. “You will leave early in the 
morning, and I wish to have a farewell talk with 
you to-night.” 

She cast a scarlet shawl around her shoulders, 
and slipping her hand through his arm, he led her 
out into the flower garden, and gathering a 
cluster of scarlet geraniums, said : 

“ I will put these in your hair, to replace the 
flower you gave away ; besides, they correspond 
with the color of your shawl.” 

She looked at him wonderingly, then she said : 

“Was it wrong, Earl, for me to give away a, 
flower?” 

“No, my darling,” he replied, laughing lightly. 
“ I am feeling unaccountably depressed this even- 
ing. This parting saddens me more than I would 
have believed possible. It seems as if something 
will arise between us before we meet again, some- 
thing which will win your love from me. Oh, my 
darling, how I wish you regretted this parting as 
deeply as I do. But no, I will not allow such a 
selfish thought. Be happy, my sweet, holy love,. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


165 


and may God’s angels have charge of thee,” he 
added reverently. “ I am not a praying man, my 
darling, but your sweet face seems to bring God 
and the angels very near to me, and if I should 
ever ask aught of Omnipotence, it will be that he 
bless you, my precious love.” 

They had paused in their walk, and were sadly 
regarding each other. Edna clasped her arms 
around Earl’s neck, and he could see that her violet 
eyes were brimming with tears, and on her long 
jetty lashes trembled drops that were not the dews 
of night. 

“ Why, Earl, what do you mean ? ” she cried, 
tearfully. “ What could part us but death ? You 
love me, do you .not ? and I — I could never give you 
up — never in life. Nothing could ever change my 
love for you, for it is founded on esteem, and I am 
sure you will never do aught to lose my respect.” 

“ But, darling, suppose I should do something 
which you regard as wrong, would you not love me 
still? They say that woman’s love will cling 
through evil as well as through good report.” 

Edna regarded him sorrowfully for a moment, 
then spoke slowly, calmly, as if weighing her 
words : 

“Yes, the love of some women does; but I do 
not think mine could. The evil report of the 
world, all the shame and scorn that the world 
coul l sweep upon the object of its wrath, could 
never change my love, as long as I believe you to 


166 


EDNA CARLISLE' 


be guiltless of sin. But if you had sinned wilfully,, 
knowingly, whether the world regarded it as sin or 
not, I should cease to love you because I could no 
longer respect you. But why should we speak so 
seriously of this? You will never do anything to 
wound my love. You will never be aught but 
your noble self — my Earl ! my prince ! my king ! ” 

She buried her tear- wet face upon his breast and 
sobbed convulsively: “Nothing can ever part us 
my Earl, but sin or death. Heaven shield us from 
both ! ” 

At that moment Homer was kissing Edna’s 
rose ; and then he folded it in a tinted paper, on 
which he had written : 

“ Given to me September the eighth, by the fair 
hands of my beloved : 

“ Sweet flower, you nestled in her hair ; 

To my fond eyes you are more fair 
Than diamond crest, or jewels rare ; 

Your breath my sweet hopes fan. 

You whisper, Love may bring to bless. 

Me in my Eden loneliness, 

An Eve of truest loveliness— 

Heaven's last, best gift to man.” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


167 


CHAPTER XVII. 

“ OH ! FOR THAT WARNING VOICE.” 

When next we see our heroine she is sitting by 
a table, which is lighted by a student lamp, dili- 
gently conning to-morrow’s lesson. The chill De- 
cember winds are howling and shrieking without, 
but it is not the moaning winds, nor the sound of 
the driving blast against the window pane, which 
makes her look at the sentences within her book, 
as though they were written in an unknown lan- 
guage, or held a meaning which her brain could 
not grasp. 

Ever and anon she glances uneasily at Flossie, 
who is fitfully slumbering by the fire. 

At last she lays down her book with a sigh, and 
crosses over to Flossie, and touches with her cool 
hand the fever-flushed cheek of the sleeper. 

Flossie opens her dark eyes and says, huskily : 
“ What do you want, Violet ? ” 

“ Nothing, dear ; I fear you are seriously ill, you 
look so feverish.” 

“ Ugh, I am far from being feverish, I am cold,” 
said Flossie, with a shiver. “ Please get me a cup 
of hot tea; and don’t be anxious, dear, it is only a 
cold ; I have felt bad all day.” 

Edna complied with Flossie’s request, and after 


168 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


tucking her up snugly in bed, sat and thought 
long and deeply. 

Of all diseases which with swift wing sweep over 
our land, leaving darkness and death behind, diph- 
theria seemed to her the darkest hued and most 
appalling. Yet she remembered having heard Dr. 
Evert say that although it so often proved fatal, it 
was easily controlled if proper means were em- 
ployed ; but unfortunately, few physicians seemed 
to understand the disease. When speaking on the 
subject Dr. Evert had added that he possessed a 
recipe, which had been given him by an old physi- 
cian, who claimed that out of one thousand cases 
in which it had been used, not a single patient had 
been lost. Edna had made a memorandum of it, 
and reading it now she knit her fair brow anx- 
iously. 

“ What should she do ? ” she asked herself. Dr. 
Evert claimed that he had used it for years .with 
uniform success ; but dared she trust herself to 
take charge of the case ? 

She did not really know that Flossie was suffer- 
ing with diphtheria, and if she called in a physi- 
cian, he might be one of those whose fatal igno- 
rance on the subject was considered so alarming 
by Dr. Evert. 

At last she mapped out her course and waited 
for the dawn. Flossie complained of aching- 
head and limbs, and when she attempted to rise, 
fell back fainting on her pillow. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


169 


Edna immediately aroused their landlady and 
had a messenger dispatched for a physician. 

He speedily arrived, and after making an exam- 
ination pronounced the disease diphtheria. 

Edna inquired his method and found it differed 
radically from the course pursued by Dr. Evert. 

“Have you had many diphtheria patients in 
your practice ? ” Edna inquired. 

“ Very many,” he replied. 

“ Have you lost any of them ? ” 

“Yes. It is a very grave disease. I have lost 
as small a per cent of my patients as any of my 
profession. It is a very dangerous disease, and 
often baffles the skill of the best physicians. But 
I think we can treat the young lady successfully,” 
he added urbanely. 

He was preparing to write a prescription, and 
Edna opened her purse, saying : 

“ What are your charges, doctor, for coming here 
and diagnosing the case ? The father of the young 
lady is a physician. I shall immediately tele- 
graph for him, and until he arrives I shall take 
charge of the case myself.” 

The physician looked at her in astonishment. 

“ My dear young lady, you must understand that 
this is a very dangerous disease, and one that re- 
quires immediate attention.” 

“ I shall give it immediate attention,” Edna re- 
plied. I have a prescription which has been used 


170 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


for years with entire success. I shall put my trust 
in that until Dr. Evert arrives.” 

“ A truly wonderful prescription,” said the phy- 
sician, sarcastically. “ I wonder that it has never 
been made known to the medical profession.” 

“ It has been made known,” Edna replied 
haughtily. “ Dr. Evert told me he had it pub- 
lished in a medical journal, but from the continued 
fatality of the disease, he believed little attention 
had been been paid to it.” 

The physician would not readily consent to 
leave the case in Edna’s care, and when he took 
his departure, his anger was too great to be en- 
tirely concealed under a polite exterior. 

Edna immediately telegraphed to Dr. Evert r 

“ Flossie is ill. Has diphtheria .” 

Then she had her prescription filled, and began 
the treatment advised by him. 

Their landlady was dreadfully frightened when 
she learned there was a case of diphtheria beneath 
her roof. She had several small children, and she 
gathered her nurslings into a room in the part of 
the house most remote from where the sick girl 
lay ; and she herself passed the door with bated 
breath. 

All day long Edna faithfully nursed poor Flos- 
sie, who moaned and tossed feverishly upon her 
pillow, scarcely able to speak above a whisper, 
and drinking with difficulty her beef tea, which 
was the only nourishment her faithful nurse would. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


171 


allow. As evening drew on Flossie seemed a very 
little better, and fell into a light slumber, and 
Edna waited anxiously for the arrival of the even- 
ing train, which she believed would bring Dr. 
Evert. 

A wild snow storm was raging without, and she 
thought what a dreary journey it must be to tho 
anxious father. 

By and by she heard the whistle of the ap- 
proaching train, and waited anxiously for Dr.. 
Evert’s arrival. What would he say? she won- 
dered. Would he commend, or condemn, the 
course she had pursued ? 

Presently she heard a ring at the door bell, and 
the sound of Dr. Evert’s well remembered voice in 
the hall below ; then came the tread of feet on the 
stairs, and she stepped softly to the door, and was 
clasped in Mrs. Evert’s arms. 

“ How is Flossie ? ” exclaimed the anxious 
mother. 

Edna replied : “ A little better, I think. But 
uncle Wilfred can tell you better than I can.” 

Dr. Evert immediately pressed to his daughter’s 
bedside. Flossie opened her eyes with a startled 
cry, and in another moment was weeping hysteri- 
cally upon her father’s bosom. 

Edna told him all the circumstances connected 
with the case, and he rested his hand a moment 
upon her head in benediction. 

“ Heaven bless you, my brave, noble girl. I re- 


172 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


membered giving you the prescription, but I feared 
you would not have the bravery to treat the case 
yourself ; and I greatly feared the result if you did 
not, for this is a disease which requires careful 
management from the start.” 

Edna was pale and fatigued by her long vigil, 
and after spending an hour in the sweet commun- 
ing which reunited friends find so delightful, she 
yielded to their importunities, and retired to ob- 
tain the rest she so greatly needed. 

Flossie, poor child, had been quite home- sick, 
having never been away from her parents before, 
and she declared that the pleasure of seeing them 
was well worth the pain of being ill. 

Dr. Evert stayed with them a few days, then re- 
turned home to look after his patients there, leav- 
ing ample instruction with his wife in case Edna 
should be taken with the disease, as he believed 
she would. 

He was right in his surmise, for Edna fell ill in a 
few days after his departure, but she had the dis- 
ease in so light a form, it was not deemed neces- 
sary to recall him. 

Mrs. Evert watched over her with tenderest care, 
u,nd by Christmas morning she was quite out of 
danger, and though still pale and weak, she was 
uble to sit at the window and watch the sun peep 
over the hills, shedding upon the snow-covered 
earth his lances of crimson and burnished gold. 

Mrs. Slater and Earl had not been informed of 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


175 


Edna’s illness, it being deemed unwise to notify 
them, lest they should be needlessly alarmed. 

Beside many Christmas greetings, the morning 
mail brought Edna a letter and package, directed 
in Earl’s well known hand. She , eagerly opened 
the letter and read as follows : 

“ Dear Edna : — I send Christmas greeting, also 
a necklace to adorn the fair throat of her who 
deserves to be crowned 4 queen of love and beauty.’ 
I hope you will honor me by wearing my gift when 
you graduate. I look eagerly forward to the hour 
of your return to us, that being but a prelude to 
that day of greater joy, when you shall become 
my wife. Believe me, darling, it will be the pride 
of my life to shield you from sorrow, and give you 
all the happiness that a tender and loving husband 
can bestow upon his first and only love. 

44 Faithfully yours, 

44 Earl Whitney. 

44 P. S. I am invited to a Christmas dinner, which 
will be followed by wine and dancing; those 
amusements which you despise. I would gladly 
stay away, not because they are unpleasant to me, 
but because of my love for you ; but my mother 
would never forgive me if I did, for all our set will 
be there. 

44 May I ask that you will set my graceless name 
in your pure prayer? Earl.” 


174 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Edna opened the package and found it contained 
a necklace of purest pearls, which called forth ex- 
clamations of delight from Flossie. Edna’s tears 
fell fast upon Earl’s gift ; and Flossie exclaimed in 
astonishment : 

“ Why, Violet ! what are you crying for ? ” 

Edna smiled sadly and replied : “ Oh, I feel so 
sick and weary, and my heart cries out for Earl ; 
and even such a beautiful present as this can not 
wean me from my sadness.” 

If Earl could only have seen his little white- 
faced love, as she sat by the window that evening, 
gazing out into the moonlight, her thoughts far 
away, thinking of and praying for him. 

Where he was gayety reigned supreme. Was it 
the whisperings of the angel, sent to guard him 
in answer to Edna’s prayers, that caused him to 
pause and reflect when the wine went round, and 
turn down his glass when the waiter would have 
filled it? Perhaps it was ; however, his thoughts 
flew to his betrothed, and her sweet holy life, so 
in contrast to the lives of those about him, and he 
thought: “Would it not be love’s true loyalty 
to abstain from the use of that which had wrought 
so much sorrow in her early life ?” 

His thoughts were recalled by a mocking voice 
nt his side : — 

“Why, Mr. Whitney, you have not turned tem- 
perance reformer, have you?” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


175 


“ No,” said Earl, smiling, “ but I might be en- 
gaged in worse business.” 

“Oh, Mr. Whitney, please east your scruples 
aside at this merry Christmas gathering, and 
drink a glass of wine with me. ” 

He glanced at the dark-eyed siren, then at the 
gay crowd around him ; all others were drinking, 
why should he make himself appear ridiculous in 
the eyes of his friends ? He drank as requested, 
and before lie returned home, he drank again and 
again; — and, oh, shall I record it? — when he 
reached home his steps were so uhsteady he had 
to be assisted to his room, where he soon sank 
into the heavy slumber of the inebriate, and the 
handsome face, with its crown of wavy golden 
hair, which Edna longed to see, was flushed with 
wine, and his ear would have been deaf, even to 
.the music of her voice. 

I think his guardian angel must have regarded 
his slumber with sorrowful eyes, murmuring, 
k “Woe! woe! woe! woe to him who giveth his 
neighbor drink.” 


176 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

“ WHO YEILETH LOVE, SHOULD FIRST HAVE 
VANQUISHED FATE. ” 

“ The leaves of memory seem to make, 

A mournful rustling in the dark.” 

“ Commencement day at A College dawned 

bright and clear. Edna had been chosen to deliv- 
er the valedictory. 

Never in her life had she appeared more lovely 
in the eyes of her admiring friends, than in that, 
her hour of triumph. 

Mrs. Evert had spent money with a lavish hand, 
in purchasing the graduation dress of her adopted 
child, and felt amply repaid when she saw how 
beautifully Edna’s graceful form set off the 
appointments of her rich attire. 

Her skirt was of white silk, with a silver sheen 
of frost work, that glimmered mistily through her 
creamy overdress of rare silk lace, which was loop- 
ed up with violets. Earl’s gift of pearls completed 
; her attire ; themselves scarcely more fair than the 
1 snowy throat which they encircled. 

A murmur of surprise and pleasure passed over 
the audience as she came forward to deliver the 
valedictory. Her face flushed daintily, then her 
sweet, thrilling voice rose on the air, captivating 
the ears of her hearers ; and her poetic enthusiasm 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


177 


and true, holy views carried their hearts by storm, 
and at the conclusion of her speech a round of 
applause, and a shower of flowers, testified to the 
enthusiasm evoked. 

Flossie was wild with delight, and Earl Whit- 
ney and Homer Atwood were equally charmed. 
But in a distant corner of that vast auditorium, sat 
a sad- faced woman dressed in sable hues, who lis- 
tened to that speech of gentle eloquence with 
streaming eyes. 

Need I say it was Mrs. Slater ? 

For many weeks she had worked day and night 
to obtain money to buy herself a suitable attire, 

and pay her expenses to A to see her daughter- 

graduate. 

Mrs. Evert had offered to supply Mrs. Slater’s 
needs, but she had gently but steadily refused; 
although she keenly felt that the only dress which 
her poor earnings could buy, might make Edna 
blush for her mother’s poverty. But she would 
not shame her child ; strangers need not know of 
the tie between them, she thought. 

The train on which she came had barely arrived 
in time for the exercises, and she had slipped into 
a back seat unnoticed by any of Edna’s friends, 
and waited there trembling with eagerness for the 
sight of her darling. 

When Edna appeared, blooming in grace and 

beauty, her mother half arose from her seat, with 
12 


178 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 

an exclamation of delight, than sank back pale 
and trembling. 

Why did remorseful memory hold that picture 
before her eyes to haunt her in an hour like this ? 
That vision of another child of hers, who in his 
boyish beauty had been as fair to look upon as 
Edna ; and in early years had given even greater 
promise of intellectual capabilities. And how had 
she cherished him ? Through the dim haze which 
intemperance had thrown around her memory of 
of those unhappy years, she saw him returning 
from school with bleeding feet and fever-flushed 
face, unnoticed and uncared for. Saw him again, 
his slender form writhing beneath the lash 
wielded by his step-father’s hand, while she, his 
only protector, stood by unregarding his plea for 
help. God forgive her; had she been insane in 
those days ? # 

Again, Remorse held before her eyes the vision 
of Archie as he had looked that morning when he 
had been sent for the cow ; and she saw his thin, 
pale cheeks, with the impress of death already 
upon them, as he had appeared when, with heav- 
ing bosom and feeble steps, he had started to 
obey his step-father’s command, first casting upon 
Jier a sorrowful, reproachful glance, as though he 
would say, “Mother, will you allow me to be sent 
away to die ?” 

She could see that reproachful, accusing look 
now, and it seemed to burn into her very soul. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


179 


“Oh God!” she wailed under her breath, “is 
there any pain like remorse?” What was it 
Archie had bidden them tell her ? 

“Tell mother I won the prize, the Crown of 
Life?” Was there not a reproach contained in 
the message ? 

He had won the only thing his mother had no 
power to deprive him of. The cup of blessings 
which life held to his lips her hand had ruth- 
lessly dashed to the ground. 

Her heart was so oppressed by sad memories 
that she scarcely noted her daughter’s words. 
When others pressed forward to congratulate 
Edna, Mrs. Slater started forward with trembling 
eagerness, then sank back pale and weeping. 

Ho, let Edna enjoy her triumph ; she must not 
be annoyed by the sight of her mother’s face, 
which could only bring sad memories. She had 
sown only thorns in her child’s pathway, while 
others had sown flowers ; they had a right to re- 
joice with her ; but for her, the mother who had 
sown so liberally to the wind, must she complain 
if she reap the whirlwind ? 

Thinking thus bitterly she bowed her head, and 
many tears were hidden by her thick mourning 
veil. 

At last a familiar voice greeted her in saluta- 
tion, and looking up she beheld Homer Atwood’s 
sympathetic eyes bent on her, while he said cour- 
teously — 


180 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“Mrs. Slater, will you permit me to conduct 
you to your daughter ? She wishes to see you.” 

Edna had not verbally expressed a wish to see 
her mother, but his loving eyes had noted a ten- 
der, wistful expression in her face ; and following 
the direction of her glance, observed the weeping 
form of Mrs. Slater, and knew that Edna desired 
to be clasped to the heart of her sad- faced mother. 
Homer had, as we have already shown, complied 
with Edna’s unspoken wish, and when he con- 
ducted Mrs. Slater to her daughter’s side, he drew 
back with tears in his brown eyes, as she clasped 
Edna in a loving embrace and cried brokenly, — 

“ My darling ! my only child ! God forgive 
me ! what have I done ! Oh Archie, Archie !” 

Tears glimmered on Edna’s jetty lashes, as she 
said : 

“God has forgiyen you, my Mother, and has 
washed the stain away ; but my brother’s blood 
has long cried out to me, and the remainder of my 
life shall be devoted to fighting the evil which was 
instrumental in causing his early death. Then 
turning to Homer she said gratefully, 

“You are so ready to give others pleasure that 
I believe your kind heart gives you the power to 
read one’s thoughts.” 

“ I would indeed be dull could I not read your 
expressive face, and most unkind not to strive 
to give pleasure to one so easily pleased.” 

We pass silently over the events of the day, and 


OK, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


181 


beg leave to transport our readers on the wings of 
fancy, to the home of Edna Carlisle, where a 
grand party is in progress. 

The house and grounds are brilliantly illumina- 
ted, and sweet music and merry laughter floats 
out on the air. Happy groups are gathered on the 
lawn, while here and there couples wander off by 
themselves. For 

“ ’Tis the hour when lover’s vows 
Seem sweet in every whispered word. ” 

Earl and Edna had improved this their first op- 
portunity of conversing alone, and had strolled 
away to the farther side of the lawn from where 
the majority of the guests were gathered ; and 
Earl is telling Edna of his loneliness in her ab- 
sence, and his joy at meeting her again, and Edna 
listens to the beloved voice once more, and her 
eyes are wet with joy’s sweet dew; and Earl can 
feel that the dimpled hand resting, upon his arm 
is fluttering like a timid bird. 

Homer Atwood and Earl’s sister Ivy are ap- 
proaching them, but Earl’s eyes are so absorbed 
in looking at the lovely face beside him that he 
does not note them. He is saying : u I have been 
very proud and happy to-day, my darling — ” 

Homer hears the last word, “ darling,” and his 
heart gives a sudden bound, then painfully labors 
on. Did he hear aright ? he wondered, or was it 


182 


EDNA CARLISLE 


the voice of his own heart, which had been so 
happily singing a song of love and joy. 

Could it be possible that Earl was his rival?, 
an accepted lover? How strange that he never 
thought of it before. His face paled for an in- 
stant, and it seemed that all his life blood surged 
about his heart with an overpowering sense of 
pain and loss. Then he rallied and thought, I 
will learn my fate as soon as possible. If my 
fond hopes must die, their fragrant memory shall 
but distil sweetness in my heart, and I shall 
strive to live a life approved by God, and main 

“ Ah, well ! for us all some sweet hope lies 
Deeply buried from human eyes ; 

And, in the hereafter, angels may 
Roll the stone from its grave away ! ” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


183 


CHAPTER XIX. 

“ IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.” 

“ Oh let the solid ground, 

Mot fail beneath my feet, 

Before my life has found 
What some have found so sweet. 

“ Let the sweet heavens endure, 

Mot close and darken above me. 

Before lam quite, quite sure, 

That there is one to love me.” 

Life seemed so bright and fair to Edna now, and 
her reveries were as sweet as those experienced by 
the Lotus-eaters. Were not the wearisome hours 
of absence and study over-past, and she restored 
to the companionship of those she loved? Ah, 
life was very sweet, and she gathered the flowers 
that grew in her pathway and rejoiced in the light 
of her lover’s eyes. 

They were very merry at Dr. Evert’s that sum- 
mer. Mrs. Whitney and her daughters were with 
them, and had come accompanied by Maurice 
Guthrie, a young man who was paying assiduous 
court to Beulah. He was a tall, dark man, well 
versed in the ways and wickedness of the world ; 
a man of perhaps not more than thirty-five years, 
but he had seen and indulged in more iniquity 
than many who reach their ten times seven. 


184 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


Maurice Guthrie possessed the uncommon faculty 
of being able to go so far, and no farther, in the 
ways of sin — of always pausing ere he incurred 
society’s displeasure. He had inherited consider- 
able wealth, and being passably good looking and 
of agreeable manners, he was considered a most 
eligible suitor by fashionable society. 

To Edna this new visitor was exceedingly disa- 
greeable. She seemed to intuitively divine the 
vileness of his heart, and he soon discovered that 
his courtly speeches were wasted on this simple 
girl, who so visibly shrank from the glance of his 
bold, black eyes. But little did Maurice Guthrie 
care. He had already decided to marry Beulah ; 
her wit and beauty would make her a fitting mis- 
tress for his home, while the large dowry which 
she would bring, would be a welcome addition to 
his already large fortune. 

So-called “good society ” is responsible for many 
evils in this world, of none perhaps more repre- 
hensible than that inculcated by her pernicious 
doctrine, that a girl need not expect to find a hus- 
band of strictly moral character, and should not 
inquire too closely into the private life of the man 
whom she is to marry. The fiat of society being 
that the bride must possess the graces and virtues 
of the angels, and if the bridegroom possesses a 
good bank account, the scales are evenly bal- 
anced. 

Maurice Guthrie was an atheist. Judging the 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


185 


world by his own evil mind, lie deemed religion 
but a cloak for wickedness, and morality but an 
assumption of virtue to attain some coveted end. 
His witty speeches and sarcasms on this subject 
made him a dangerous companion to those whose 
feet were not grounded on the rock. 

His doctrines were especially pernicious to one 
of Earl’s temperament. Earl felt this to be true, 
for he knew that many times he had been led into 
temptation by Maurice Guthrie, who was so eager 
to instruct him in the dark ways of so-called 
“ high life.” 

Earl’s better nature revolted against indulgence 
in sin, and he longed exceedingly for the summer 
to come, when he would be able to free himself 
from the companionship of evil associates, and 
would spend the summer in the pure atmosphere 
of his uncle’s happy home, free from the influences 
of the wine-cup or the gaming table. He earnestly 
desired to live a good, true life ; to be stainless in 
word and deed, but having no abiding faith, or 
steadfast anchor of hope, he drifted helplessly 
with the tide, and became stranded among shoals 
and quicksands. 

Not from Earl, but from Mrs. Whitney, had 
Maurice Guthrie received the invitation to accom- 
pany them to the country ; and Earl heard the in- 
vitation accepted with a feeling of anger and de- 
spair. Instead of renouncing the man’s friendship 
when he discovered that his influence was evil, 


186 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


Earl did as thousands have done before him, let 
matters drift along, his better nature continually 
struggling for the mastery, sometimes victorious, 
sometimes vanquished, and always hoping to, in 
some way, be freed from the evil influence. 

Why is it that men who persist in walking on 
quicksands are not content to walk there alone, 
but are continually striving to force the compan- 
ionship of those who prefer firm ground ? 

I see no solution to the problem unless it be that 
they are possessed by the spirit of Satan, who,, 
having fallen from the heights of bliss, desires to 
seduce others from a life of joy and allegiance to 
God. 

But we must stop moralizing and hasten on with 
our story. 

A few days after Edna’s return home there was 
a pic-nic at Clear Lake, a spot well adapted by 
nature for such occasions, and it had become the 
general resort of pleasure seekers. 

The lake was, as its name designates, noted for 
its clear waters, and nature had evidently blessed 
the surrounding country with her most loving 
touch and tenderest smile. 

The occasion was one which all felt called upon 
to enjoy, and upon that day, for many miles 
around, the farm houses wore a decidedly lonely, 
not- at-home air. 

Clear Lake was distant several miles from 
Rochester, and Doctor and Mrs. Evert, Mrs. Whit- 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


187 . 


ney and Ivy, drove over in the carriage, every 
available space of the vehicle being crowded with 
well filled hampers of pic-nic delicacies. Maurice 
Guthrie and Beulah rode in the phaeton, and Earl, 
Edna and Flossie gave themselves the pleasure of 
watching the others depart, then mounting their 
horses they reached the grounds some time in ad- 
vance of the other merry-makers. 

For years Dr. Evert’s prescription for Edna 
and Flossie had been a daily ride on horseback, 
and it was one which he always insisted upon be- 
ing observed except in very inclement weather. 
He had presented them with a pair of milk-white 
riding horses, and the delight they felt at being the 
possessors of such beautiful and spirited animals, 
greatly enhanced, in their minds, the value of the 
prescription. 

On the morning of the pic-nic, Earl rode be- 
tween them on his uncle’s own black riding horse, 
and they formed a very picturesque group as they 
dashed past other pleasure-seekers, less happily 
mounted. But I think on Flossie the eyes of ob- 
servers rested with the most pleasure. She wore a 
habit of green and gold, and her dark eyes were 
sparkling with pleasure, her cheeks glowing with 
excitement, and her long golden curls, in pleasing 
contrast to her green habit, were floating out on 
the wind, the plaything of every summer breeze. 

Arriving at die lake the merry-makers aban- 
doned themselves to a day’s enjoyment. Swings 


188 EDNA CARLISLE; 

had been erected for the delight of the little ones, 
while the young people climbed hills and explored 
mossy dells, or formed themselves into boating 
parties, and skimmed lightly over the surface of 
the clear, beautiful lake. 

Well, there are pic-nics and pic-nics; this was a 
Sunday-school pic-nic. Why is it that some peo- 
ple have an idea that a religious gathering must 
necessarily be dull ? Does it follow that because 
the Christian’s pleasures are those which harm 
neither soul nor body, they are without enjoyment ? 
or that they love their friends less because they 
expect to clasp glorified hands with them in the 
realms of bliss, and spend an eternity of happiness 
in their companionship ? 

At last the snowy linen was spread on the soft, 
green grass in the shadow of the great trees, and 
luncheon was served in that informal and most 
appetizing manner, while the warblers of the wood 
listened in timid wonder at the gay voices and 
merry laughter of the invaders of their solitude. 

Flossie had smuggled her sketch-book into the 
carriage, and after the meal was over, she begged 
Edna to slip away with her in search of a subject 
for her pencil. 

Edna consented, and Homer Atwood, who was 
standing near, heard Flossie’s request, and asked 
permission to show them a beautiful spot that he 
had discovered, which he praised so much that 
Flossie accepted his proffered escort with delight. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 189 

After a walk of about ten minutes they reached 
the shady retreat, and Flossie’s artist eyes beamed 
with pleasure. 

The spot well deserved the praise that Homer 
had bestowed upon it. It was a beautiful, ferny 
dell, the thick foliage of the over-arching trees 
permitting only a “ dim, religious light ” to peep 
into that flowery spot; and forming a beautiful 
back-ground for the picture, a rugged cliff uprose, 
half way up which a small spring sent its tiny 
stream purling over the mossy boulders, and 
sparkling in the sunlight, which glimmered mist- 
ily through the dense foliage. 

Flossie was in an ecstasy of delight, and was 
almost ready to kiss Homer in her grateful enthu- 
siasm. 

“ Oh, Violet ! ” she cried, “ you must let me put 
you in this picture. Surely I can paint you suc- 
cessfully in such a spot as this. You shall be my 
sleeping beauty. No, that would not suit me, for 
then I could not paint your eyes. Oh,” she ex- 
claimed, casting her arms caressingly around 
Edna, “I quite despair of ever being able to 
paint anything as lovely as my Violet.” 

“I do not wonder,” said Homer, smiling; “only 
Omnipotence could do that.” 

After much laughing and many gay speeches, 
Edna was at last seated to the little artist’s satis- 
faction, and then turning to Homer Flossie said r 
saucily : 


190 


EDNA CAKLISLE; 


“ You may sit here, too, if you like ; you will 
just count for nothing in the picture.” 

Homer accepted the seat assigned him, and 
smilingly watched the fair artist who had suddenly 
become absorbed in her work. Then he looked at 
the maiden beside him. Was not this the hour of 
fate ? the time to discover if this peerless blossom 
was to shed its fragrance in his heart? 

Her cheeks were flushing beneath his loving 
gaze. He took that rosy bloom as a hopeful 
omen, and his voice grew eloquent with the burden 
of his great love for her. 

Flossie had been busily engaged in sketching 
the outline of the scene, then she turned to the 
central figure ; but a woeful change had come over 
the face she loved. 

There was no mistaking the sorrowful expres- 
sion of Edna’s face, and was not that a tear that 
fell upon the dimpled hands clasped in her lap? 

Homer was speaking, and Flossie could not 
hear the low-spoken words ; but by woman’s true 
instinct she understood the despair depicted in 
his face, and tears of sympathy sprang to her 
eyes. Then hastily brushing them away, she 
rapidly sketched the features of both, faithfully 
transcribing the expression of each; and in her 
joy at seeing the skill she evinced in protraying 
-the gentle sorrow shown on one face, and the de- 
spair of the other, she almost forgot to be sorry 
for the disappointed lover. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


191 


After awhile Homer rose to leave and stopped 
:a moment beside Flossie, and smiling sadly, in- 
quired of her success. She deftly placed her hand 
over his pictured face, while she replied to his 
question, and noted the agony in the depths of 
his dark eyes. 

Resting his hand a moment on her head in ben- 
ediction, he said, “God bless you, dear little 
friend ; may you always be happy as now.” 

And looking up a moment later through her 
tears, Flossie beheld his vanishing form ; but he 
-was not going back to the crowd. No, he spent 
one dark hour alone in the wood, and who shall 
blame him if he shed bitter tears over the grave of 
his buried hopes ? 

Had not the sweetest blessing of life been 
denied him? That love which is dearer to the 
keart than the peace and joy of Eden ? 

“ Daughters of Eve, your mother did not well ; 

She placed the apple in your father’s hand, 

An d we have read, O wonder ! what befell,— 

The man was not deceived, nor yet could stand ; 

He chose to lose, for love of her, his throne,— 

With her could die, but could not live alone.” 


192 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XX. 

“time tries the troth in EVERYTHING . 55 

“ The heart that has truly loved, never forgets, 

But as truly loves on to the close ; 

As the sunflower turns on her god -when he sets, 

The same look that she turned when he rose.” 

It hath been said, “The poor make not many 
friends , 55 and old Mr. Allen had found the proverb 
to be indeed true. During a long life of poverty, 
he had found few persons who cared to cultivate 
his acquaintance ; and through two years of con- 
tinued illness there were fewer still who cared to 
come into his humble above, to seek to cheer or 
sympathize with the weary sufferer, or to relieve 
his tired wife and son of their continued watching 
beside him. His life had been such an isolated 
one that few knew him intimately, and none knew 
of the need he had of help and sympathy. 

From the beginning of Mr. Allen’s illness, 
Homer Atwood had been a constant visitor at their 
I house; many times he had spent the whole night 
watching beside the sick man, and returned home 
in the morning tired and sleepy, but conscious of 
having shed a little brightness in a pathway 
which was all too deeply shadowed. Once his 
mother said to him, 

“My son, you will kill yourself at this wear!- 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 193 

some work ; could you not send a hired nurse 
there ? ” 

“Yes, Mother, I suppose I could; but Mrs. Allen 
would never consent to give up the nursing of her 
husband to another except for a little while ; be- 
sides, he says he rests better with me than with 
anyone else, for I draw his mind away from earth 
and suffering ; and oh, my Mother, if I have any 
message of love and joy to carry to the children of 
men, should I not bear it to the poor, to those who 
have had no time to see any pleasure, because 
their lives have had to be spent in a continual 
struggle for bread? Shall not my mission be to 
them ? to tell them of that Better Country, and of 
the peace and joy to be found in Christ Jesus ?” 

And Homer continued to visit Mr. Allen until 
the end came, always bearing with him temporal, 
as well as spiritual blessings. 

At last, after months of weary waiting, death 
came to relieve the poor sufferer, and he died with 
his hand clasped in that of the man who had 
smoothed his pathway to the grave, and better 
still, led him to a faith in God, and the life be- 
yond. 

On the afternoon of Mr. Allen’s death Edna, 
Beulah, Earl, and Mr. Guthrie drove past the 
abode of sorrow ; they had not heard of Mr. Allen’s 
death, but were out taking a pleasure ride. 

Homer Atwood was just ready to enter his 

13 


194 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


Ibuggy to return home when they passed, and Earl 
stopped the carriage to speak to him. 

Homer came near, saluting them kindly and 
courteously, and told them of the death which had 
just occurred within the cottage. It was the first 
time Edna had spoken with Homer since the day 
of the pic-nic. She had heard him preach the Sun- 
day following that event, and there had been a 
pathos and gentle eloquence running through the 
discourse which had touched the heart, and drawn 
tears to the eyes of more than one listener. Now 
he seemed to grieve only for the sorrows of others. 

Edna also felt the mystic bond of Christian 
sympathy, and inquired, 

“Is there anything that a stranger might do to 
show her sympathy and be of some service to the 
bereaved family? ” 

“ Not now, I think,” Homer replied. “ But in a 
few days, when they will doubly feel their loneli- 
ness and loss, then your company and sympathy 
would be a blessing to them.” 

After they had resumed their ride, Beulah said, 

“It is a mystery to me that anyone should wish 
to be a minister. To me it seems the saddest, 
most gloomy life possible. Oh, I would rather be 
anything else than a minister.” 

“ And I,” said Edna warmly, “ think it the high- 
est position a man can fill; to be the bearer of 
God’s message to man; to cheer the sick, and 
close dying eyes ; to comfort stricken hearts, and 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 


195 


to guide wayward feet into paths of peace that 
end in glory at last, — a life thus spent must be 
filled with the purest joy, the holiest pleasure a 
human heart can know.” 

Maurice Guthrie had been narrowly watching 
Edna’s expressive face during their interview with 
Homer; and had noticed that his face had first 
flushed, then paled at sight of her, and Guthrie 
said in his heart, I know your secret ; and when 
Edna ended her warm defence of the ministerial 
profession, he said, with a touch of sarcasm in his 
tones — 

“Miss Carlisle, I think you would make an 
adorable minister’s wife ; you would enter so heart- 
ily into sympathy with his parishioners.” 

Edna noted the sarcastic tone and her cheeks 
flushed hotly, as she haughtily replied, 

“ I believe it is not necessary for me to be the 
wife of anyone, to be able to ‘rejoice with those 
who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.’ 
That is already my prerogative as a child of the 
living God.” 

There was a constant antagonism between Edna 
and Maurice Guthrie, although veiled by a polite 
exterior. That antagonism which will ever exist 
between innocence and evil; light and darkness. 
She so plainly shrank from him, and her clear, 
truthful eyes appeared to him to be reading his 
.dark thoughts, and his heart was full of hatred for 


196 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


her; even the beauty of her face was hateful to 
him, because indicating such purity of soul. 

They had a long drive that day ; never turning 
their horses’ heads homeward, until warned by a 
rain cloud, which began to mutter ominously in 
the distance. Then they began to drive furiously 
toward home; but were caught in the rain when 
about three miles from their destination. 

A strong wind was blowing in their faces, which 
caused the rain, now falling in torrents, to beat 
into the carriage, and they were glad to take shel- 
ter in a cottage by the roadside, belonging to a 
farmer by the name of Howard. 

Mr. Howard had just come in from the field,, 
where he had been making hay, and as they 
approached he was standing upon the porch, an 
uncouth figure in brown overalls and blue checked 
shirt, watching with lowering brow the falling 
rain which would do so much damage to his out- 
lying hay. 

By his side stood his pretty, dark-eyed daugh- 
ter, dressed in cool white lawn with tiny pink 
sprays scattered over it. Her hair was combed 
smoothly away from an almost colorless face, its 
pallor only relieved by her scarlet lips and large 
dark eyes. 

She retreated shyly into the house when she 
saw the occupants of the carriage alighting; but 
her father stayed on the porch and tried to give a 
hearty welcome to the strangers. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


197 


Mr. Howard ushered them into the little sitting- 
room, introducing them collectively to his daugh- 
ter Mamie, who greeted them in a shy, nervous 
manner, which plainly indicated that she was un- 
accustomed to mingling in society. 

The room was very plainly furnished ; a rag car- 
pet covered the floor, a few engravings hung on the 
wall, while in one corner was a table well laden 
with books, and near by was a work basket con- 
taining a blue checked shirt, which Mamie had 
been making for her father. 

She was his seamstress and housekeeper, Mr. 
Howard’s wife having died some ten years before, 
leaving Mamie motherless at the age of twelve 
years. She was the living image of her dead 
mother, and it was also to be feared had inher- 
ted her mother’s disease (consumption), which 
had been in the family for several generations. 

After conversing a while with her unexpected 
guests, Mamie withdrew to the kitchen and 
shortly after invited them out to a well laden tea 
table, to partake of the repast which her skillful 
hands had prepared. She was eminently a house- 
wifely creature, one to whom the care and ar- 
rangement of a house was a pleasure; and she 
presided at the table with an easy grace, that 
-called forth admiring glances from her guests. 

She was evidently at ease in dispensing the hos- 
pitalities of her home, and Maurice Guthrie’s bold 
black eyes rested on her in undisguised admira- 


198 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


tion, and liis ever ready compliments — which 
seemed to belong so entirely to that other world to 
which she was a stranger — called forth warm 
blushes to her otherwise colorless cheeks. 

Toward evening the rain ceased to fall, the 
clouds drifted away, the sun disappeared in a sea 
of golden glory, and our friends, expressing them- 
selves pleased with the hospitality extended to 
them, and hoping to continue the acquaintance 
thus pleasantly begun, bade gay adieus to their 
kind entertainers, and drove merrily homeward. 

Mamie stood upon the porch gazing after the re- 
ceding carriage with a sense of loss at her heart. 
A sadness caused by a glimpse into that other life 
from which she would ever be debarred by pov- 
erty. 

How lovely the ladies were, she thought, and 
how handsome and courteous the gentlemen, espec- 
ially the dark-eyed one, who had looked at her so 
admiringly ; her cheeks flushed now remembering 
those glances, then she turned into the house with 
a sigh. 

They had no part or lot in her life ; doubtless 
she would never meet any of them again ; why 
should she stand and sigh for that which was be- 
yond her, she thought ; but all the evening her 
father wondered at the silence of the gay voice, 
which was wont to sing so sweetly while she went, 
about her work. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 199 

Ah, Mamie, if you had hut known — hut we will 
not anticipate. 

That evening Flossie slipped into Edna’s room 
and hegged her to come to the studio, as she had 
something she wished to show her. Edna smil- 
ingly complied ; and with an air of great mystery 
Flossie unlocked the door, saying : 

“ You remember, Violet, that I refused to let 
you see the sketch I made the day of the pic-nic ? 
well, it is finished now, and awaits your praise or 
condemnation.” 

Then she led Edna to the easel where the newly 
finished picture rested, noting her surprise with 
evident enjoyment. * 

The picture was almost faultless. Faithfully 
had the little artist transcribed the scene, even to 
a ray of sunlight that flickered across the curling 
waves of Homer’s bright brown hair, and a pearly 
tear that glittered on Edna’s long, black lashes. 

Edna was deeply affected, but seeing that Flossie 
was awaiting her opinion of it, she said : 

“ As a work of art it is beautiful, faultless. But 
dear Flossie, was it kind of you to copy the ten- 
derest emotions of the human heart for the eyes of 
others to look at ? ” 

Flossie’s eyes flashed indignantly, and she re- 
plied : 

“ Can it be possible, Violet, that you know me 
so little as to suppose I would let any one but 
yourself see this ? I could not refrain from putting 


200 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


such a beautiful scene on canvas. And now that 
it is completed, I beg you to accept it, a memento 
of my skill. You have nothing of my work, I be- 
lieve.” 

Edna clasped Flossie in a loving embrace, say- 
ing, tearfully : 

“ No, darling, not that picture : paint something 
else for me. I never want to see that again. All 
the love I have to give belongs wholly to Earl ; but 
it makes my heart ache to look at that picture, 
for — 


“ ‘ Of all sad words of tongue or pen, 

The saddest are these, it might have been.’” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


201 


CHAPTER XXL 

“the trail of the serpent is over it all.” 

“Thou art my life, my love, my heart. 

The very eyes of me.” 

A few days later Edna visited her mother and 
grandmother, delighting them with her companion- 
ship for the space of a week. At the expiration of 
that time she was sitting in the little parlor one 
morning, reading aloud to them. Hearing voices 
without she looked, and saw Earl and Flossie com- 
ing up the path. Edna dropped her book and 
sped with delight to meet them. 

“ Ah, little runaway,” cried Earl, gayly, “ we 
have found your hidden retreat, and have come 
to fetch you home.” 

Then clasping both her extended hands in his, 
:and gazing with loving grey eyes into the violet 
ones so sweetly upraised, said : 

“We could not spare you another day; no not 
•one, could we Flossie? We have been singing, 
‘ This earth is a desert drear,’ and songs of kindred 
sentiment, ever since you left us.” 

Mrs. Slater was glad to see her visitors, for she 
had taken her daughter’s betrothed into her heart 
,-of hearts, but she demurred at their errand. “ Edna 


202 EDNA CARLISLE; 

had been with them so short a time,” she com- 
plained. 

“ O do let her return with us,” said Earl, persua- 
sively. “My vacation will soon be over, and I 
must go back to Chicago. When I can no longer 
be here Edna may stay with you a month, or two, 
for aught I care.” 

Then casting a laughing glance at the sweet, 
blushing face beside him, he added: “When we 
are married you shall come and live with us all the 
time.” 

“ I shall be pleased,” said Mrs. Slater, smiling 
gravely, “to come to visit you sometimes, but 
mother and I will continue to live here. I think it 
much better for young people to live alone.” 

It had been arranged that their marriage should 
take place the following May. Earl’s father had 
made him equal partner in the bank, and their fu- 
ture home would be in Chicago. The course of true 
love ran smoothly on, not a ripple curled the sur- 
face ; among the relations there was not one dis- 
senting voice. Earl was so truly lovable, that he 
would have won his way into Mrs. Slater’s affec- 
tions, even if he had not proven so kind to her 
during her sickness. As it was, she loved him 
second only to Edna. 

To Dr. Evert and his wife Earl was more like a 
son than nephew, and doubtless they were not 
sorry that the large dowry which they meant to 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 


203 


bestow upon Edna at her marriage, would not 
go to enrich the coffers of a stranger. 

Whi^e, on the other hand, Earl’s family thought 
Edna lovely and lovable beyond comparison, and 
congratulated themselves that her beauty and tal- 
ents would add a new luster to the name of Whit- 
ney. 

Edna returned home with Earl and Flossie, and 
that homeward drive in the clear moonlight, with 
these two who occupied the warmest place in her 
heart, ever remained to her a blissful retrospect, 
embalmed in memory’s choicest perfume. It 
seemed to her like the mignonette which retains its 
fragrance after it is withered and dead, and has 
lost all semblance of former beauty. 

The next evening Homer Atwood called at Evert 
Place. He had so long been a constant visitor 
there that he feared to change his course now, lest 
he should be called upon for an explanation. Be- 
sides, there was still a sad, sweet pleasure in see- 
ing the girl he loved, even though his love was 
not returned. 

“ Strange 1 that a love-lorn heart will beat 
With rapture wild amid its folly ; 

No grief so soft, no pain so sweet, 

As love’s delicious melancholy.” 

The day had been exceedingly warm and sultry r 
and they had all gone out to sit beside the foun- 
tain, which was cooling the air with its delightful 


204 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


showers, and the full moon, which was rising, shed 
a sweet witchery upon the scene. 

One of Edna’s poems had lately appeared in a 
magazine, and had called forth many admiring 
comments from the public. They had been speak- 
ing of it, and Mrs. Evert said : 

“ I expect to be very proud of both my girls in 
days to come ; they have each chosen their life 
work, and I doubt not they will do it conscien- 
tiously and well. That they both have talent is 
beyond question.” 

“ But, Auntie,” said Beulah, “ what is the use of 
their choosing a profession like as if they were 
men, or girls who were obliged to work for a liv- 
ing ? For my part, I think it unwomanly to have 
aspirations that reach beyond the home circle.” 

“You believe, then,” said Mrs. Evert, “that a 
woman, to fill her allotted sphere, must either be 
a society woman or a house-keeper. The world is 
already burdened with the former, and suppose 
that she had no taste for the latter, that her soul 
loathes the trifling details of household work, 
while she possesses acknowledged talents in an- 
other direction. Would it not be as cruel to ex- 
pect her to continue at the work she despises, sim- 
ply because people have decided that to be her 
sphere, as to expect the boy, fitted by nature to 
rule in the senate, to continue to follow the plow, 
simply because his father was a farmer? Let each 
fill the place in this world which nature fitted him 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


205 


or her to occupy, and then, and not till then, will 
our people lead contented lives. 

“Besides,” continued Mrs. Evert, “there are 
women whose native independence makes it a 
source of grief to them to accept their spending 
money from the earnings of another, however 
cheerfully it may he given. To those independent 
natures a life work is a blessed boon.” 

“I have read somewhere,” said Mrs. Whitney, 
“ that a true woman can no more be independent 
than the clinging ivy vine.” 

“ Oh, that vine ! ” sighed Mrs. Evert, “ I am tired 
of it, though I acknowledge its poetic beauty. 
But who admires the ivy as they do the rose, which 
is its own supporter, and blesses the senses with 
its beauty and fragrance ? ” 

“ But what becomes of the home-nest they should 
preside over ? ” said Beulah. 

Mrs. Evert replied : “Does it follow that because 
a woman’s mind rises above household drudgery, 
that she loves her family less ? Does knowledge 
kill the affections of the heart ? To the contrary, 
some of the most loving wives and tender mothers 
have been women who achieved name and fame in 
the world without.” 

“ I think,” said Maurice Guthrie, “ that woman 
in the home is worthy of all honor and admiration, 
but I confess that it lowers my estimation of her 
that she should ever seek to pass beyond that 
boundary. To my mind, Milton drew a picture of 


206 


EDIsTA CARLISLE ; 


true womanliness when he said, ‘ He for God only, 
she for God through him.’ ” 

Homer said warmly : “Milton must have forgot- 
ten the teaching of his Bible when he wrote that. 
There is absolutely no sex in the kingdom of God. 
Ho not the Scriptures say, 4 There is neither male 
nor female, but you are all one in Christ Jesus ? ’ ” 

Edna had taken no part in the discussion, but 
Homer thought she looked like some pictured 
saint as she sat there in soft, white draperies, gaz- 
ing at the rising moon with a dreamy smile upon 
her lips. 

Flossie laid her hand upon Edna’s shoulder, 
saying in a loud, mischievous whisper : “ Violet, 
do wake up and defend us. Tell our fastidious 
friends that we have not lost all delicacy of feeling 
merely because you paint pictures with your pen, 
and I paint them with my brush. Ho, dear, and as 
a reward for meritorious conduct, I will put you in 
the next picture I paint, and will make your name 
(or face) immortal.” 

“ Yes, Edna,” said Mrs. Whitney, “ tell us your 
thoughts upon this subject. You, who have chosen 
a work to do, must surely have thought seriously 
upon this question of woman’s work.” 

Edna answered simply : “I only know that I 
have consecrated my life, and whatever talents I 
possess, to the service of Christ, and I cannot be- 
lieve that He who is full of love and mercy, will 
despise the work because the worker is a woman.” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


207 


Maurice Guthrie looked at her with a sarcastic 
smile upon his face ; hut to Earl she seemed en- 
veloped in a halo of ethereal beauty, and to be 
gradually slipping away from him ; and involun- 
tarily his hand closed over hers which wore his 
betrothal ring. Homer observed the action, and a 
dull pain tugged remorselessly at his heart. 

Then Mrs. Evert arose, saying smilingly, “I 
propose that we lay this vexed question aside, and 
adjourn to the house and have some music. It is 
seldom we have the pleasure of listening to such a 
delightful tenor voice as Homer’s, and I, for one, 
believe in enjoying life’s blessings while we may.” 

They did as she suggested, and after a few songs 
Homer took his leave. He had called chiefly be- 
cause he feared that if he failed to visit there as 
usual, Edna would note the change and grieve 
over the pain she had unconsciously given him ; 
and he wished to shield her from the knowledge of 
his grief, lest it cause her disquiet. 

Yet when in her presence he could not wholly 
veil his sadness ; and in her manner he thought he 
could detect a gentle, womanly pity toward him- 
self, as though she knew his heart was darkened 
with her shadow, and sorrowed knowing it. 

It grieved him that he should cause her this 
unrest, for it was through no fault of hers that he 
loved in vain; she had never given him any en- 
couragement; but she could no more help being 
lovable than the flowers which every morning 


208 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


raise their bright, dew-covered faces to the sun, 
can help charming the eye with their beauty and 
fragrance. 

That evening when Dr. Evert and his wife were 
alone together he said to her, — 

“ If there were the slightest foundation on which 
to base such a supposition, I would think Homer 
had met with some sorrow, but we would surely 
have heard of it had it been so.” 

Mrs. Evert replied, “ I observed a change in his 
manner. I have always thought he had the sweet- 
est, happiest laugh I ever heard, but I noticed this 
evening that there was a ring of sadness in it, as 
though cumbered by some secret sorrow. Perhaps 
he is feeling ill from overwork; I heard Mr. 
Guthrie saying to Beulah yesterday, that he 
thought Homer must be the prince of fools; and 
he ridiculed the idea of the possessor of such a 
handsome fortune being content to live in such a 
poky place as this ; going from house to house, as 
Homer seemed continually doing, accomplishing 
nothing by it except to wear himself out, and have 
these ignorant country people look up to him as 
though he were a living oracle.” 

' Dr. Evert’s eyes flashed angrily, as he said, — 

“ Mr. Guthrie would do well to emulate Homer’s 
example ; or at least refrain from bringing sorrow 
upon others, if he will do no good in the world.” 

“ What do you mean, Wilfred? ” Mrs. Evert in- 
quired in surprise. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


209 


“ Just this,” he replied; “ this morning I met old 
Mr. Howard on the road, and he asked me to go 
and prescribe for his daughter, who has a trouble- 
some cough ; and the daily and nightly terror of 
the old man’s life is, that Mamie will go as her 
mother did — with consumption. Well, when I 
arrived there, I found her sitting on the porch with 
Mr. Guthrie leaning over her chair, whispering 
sweet nothings, I suppose ; for she was blushing, 
and looking up into his face with eyes that seemed 
to say she thought him a king among men. For 
my part,” added the doctor angrily, “I felt a 
strong desire to horse-whip him for trying to gain 
the girl’s love, when we know quite well that he is 
not the kind of a man ever to marry a poor girl 
like Mamie. He seemed deeply chagrined that I 
should find him there, and I am quite sure he 
must have seen in my face the contempt I felt for 
him, although I put a restraint upon my tongue.” 

“Well, I am sure I don’t know what we are to 
do about it,” said Mrs. Evert. “I heard Beulah 
wondering the other day what was causing him to 
be away so much lately ; and as she is going in a 
few days to visit an old school friend of hers, he 
will have greater freedom of action than ever. I 
presume he expects to remain here as long as Earl 
does; I do not wish to be inhospitable, but I 
heartily wish for his departure.” 

It was true that Mr. Guthrie had taken to spend- 
ing much of his time at Mr; Howard’s cottage. 

14 


210 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


He had passed the cottage the next evening after 
they had “been so hospitably entertained there 
during the rain, and was somewhat chagrined to 
see Mamie standing at the gate talking to Frank 
Allen. He readily guessed Frank to be an ad- 
mirer, as indeed he was. 

Frank had loved her for years ; but her manner 
toward him had always been so capricious, that 
he despaired of ever winning her favorable regard. 

Mamie had lived a very lonely life, and having 
no companions of her own age, her time had been 
chiefly spent in reading books of a light nature, 
until her mind was filled with unreal fancies, and 
she looked at life through a veil of romance. 

That Frank Allen loved her truly, she well 
knew ; but he seemed so unlike the heroes in the 
novels with which her foolish little head was 
stored, that it almost made her angry to think he 
dared to love her. Yet she could not help relent- 
ing sometimes ; for her womanly intuition told her 
he was at heart a true gentleman, even though his 
manner was unpolished, and his hands were brown 
and rough from constant toil. 

Hut from the hour when she first saw Maurice 
Guthrie, her heart was filled with a vague unrest. 
He seemed so entirely the embodiment of her 
ideal hero — so handsome, so elegant in appear- 
ance, and so courteous in manner, that her poor, 
foolish heart throbbed with a wild, restless pain 
whenever she thought of him. Still she had hardly 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


211 


even hoped to see liim again, and when he had 
^ passed while she talked with Frank at the gate, 
her heart had thrilled wildly in response to the 
admiring glances which he cast upon her as he 
courteously raised his hat. Then tears of vexation 
sprang to her eyes, that he had seen her talking 
with her rustic lover. 

Frank’s presence suddenly grew intolerable to 
Tier, and her fingers nervously plucked to pieces 
the cinnamon rose which she held in her hand; 
then casting the scarlet petals petulantly from 
her, she turned without a word and went into the 
house, leaving him to wonder at her strange be- 
havior. 

As for Maurice Guthrie, the scene he had just 
witnessed made him still more determined to win 
the girl’s love. A feeling closely allied to that 
possessed by the proverbial “dog in the manger ” 
caused him to vow to depose the country lover. 

The next afternoon Mr. Guthrie called at the 
cottage, his ready tongue making plausible ex- 
cuses for his coming. He came again, and again, 
until it was evident that he was so gladly wel- 
comed he needed no excuse for seeking her com- 
pany. 

If Mamie had but known half the evil of his 
nature, she would have shrank from his presence ; 
but he was too polished a scoundrel not to veil the 
workings of his corrupt heart from her innocent 
eyes; so she, poor child, believed him to be the 


212 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


gentleman lie appeared, and thought all his false y 
loving words had the ring of the true metal in 
them. 

All too fleetly, to her, the happy days fled by, 
and her lover — his vacation ended, bade her good- 
bye with many protestations of affection, and 
vows to return and claim the treasure that he had 
found. Then he walked back to Dr. Evert’s, with 
a sardonic smile upon his face. 

What to him were her aching heart and tear- 
stained face? Nothing but incense at the shrine 
of his vanity. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


213 


CHAPTER XXII. 

“she loved you better than you knew.” 

44 A smile or kiss as he shall use the art 
Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart.” 

About the time that their visitor returned to 
Chicago, Flossie left for school. It was a great 
trial to the poor child to leave home ; especially as 
Edna would not accompany her this season. But 
Flossie did not feel the separation more deeply 
than those she left behind ; for she was inexpressi- 
bly dear to them all, and they sadly missed her 
bright face and winsome ways. Fall quickly 
merged into winter, and Evert Place seemed cold 
and still, in contrast to the brightness and bloom 
of the previous summer, when it had been filled 
with happy faces and gay voices. The brightest 
gleams of joy were now cast by the arrival of 
letters from Earl and Flossie. 

In January came the wedding cards of Maurice 
Guthrie and Beulah, accompanied by a warm in- 
vitation to Mrs. Evert and Edna, to come a couple 
of weeks previous to the time set for the wedding, 
and make them a visit. 

They decided to comply with the request, and 
the day before their departure Dr. Evert said to 
Edna, — 


214 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“I was at Mr. Howard’s to-day; liis daughter is- 
slowly dying of consumption, and her father’s 
grief and despair is something pitiful to witness. 
She begged me to request you to call upon her 
before you go away. I am going now to visit a 
patient who lives beyond there, and if you will go 
this afternoon, I will take you in the sleigh that 
far, and call for you upon my return home.” 

Edna readily consented, and was soon set down 
at the door of the cottage. 

In answer to her rap for admittance, a servant 
opened the door, and showed her into the room 
where the sick girl reclined in an invalid’s chair. 
She was not yet confined to her bed, though too 
weak to leave the room. Still she was ever alert, 
taxing her feeble strength to the utmost, to cheer 
her old father, whose heart was slowly breaking* 
as he watched his fading blossom. 

Edna was startled at the appalling change in 
Mamie’s lovely face. It was wan and thin; her 
large dark eyes were sunken, and on her cheeks 
burned the hectic flush of the consumptive. 

After conversing awhile, Mamie fixed her large, 
mournful dark eyes upon Edna, saying : 

“ I heard that you are going to attend the wed- 
ding of Mr. Guthrie and Miss Whitney. I very 
much desire to send a small package to him ;, 
would you do me the favor to take it to him ? I 
presume I might send it by mail, but I wrote to 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


215 


him once and received no answer, and I am not 
sure that I have the correct address. 

Edna consented to hear the parcel, then sat and 
looked sorrowfully at the poor girl, who feebly 
arose, and going to her escritoir, unlocked a drawer 
and took from it a small parcel. With trembling 
lingers she laid it in Edna’s hands, saying : 

“ You will see him, and I — oh God ! I would 
give every hour that yet remains of my brief life, 
to see him, and hear him speak to me in loving 
tones ; but that can never be. I am dying, and he 
will soon be far sway, and no word of sympathy 
will ever come to soothe my pathway to the grave. 
You will keep my secret, will you not ? I am not 
ashamed of loving him, but I would not have 
others know he was false to me.” 

Tears sprang into Edna’s eyes as she looked into 
those large, dark orbs, so full of unutterable sad- 
ness ; then hearing Dr. Evert’s voice calling her, 
she bent over the chair of the sufferer and pressed 
a tearful kiss upon the girl’s white brow. 

Mamie saw the tears and quoted : 

“‘The sunbeam of an hour, 

Which gave life’s hidden treasures to mine eye. 

As they lay shining in their secret founts, 

Went out and left them colorless. ’Tis past— 

And what remains on earth ? The rainbow mist 
Through which I gazed, hath melted, and my sight 
Is cleared to look on all things as they are ! 

But this is far too mournful ! Life’s dark gift 
Hath fallen too early and too cold upon me ! 

Therefore I would go hence ! ’ ” 


216 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


A few days later Mrs. Evert and Edna made the 
trip to Chicago without incident, and were wel- 
comed with delight to the magnificent home of 
their friends. 

Edna’s loving eyes noted in Earl’s face a gay, 
reckless look which she had never seen there be- 
fore ; otherwise he was unchanged, and his joy at 
meeting her again was too evident to be doubted. 

Shortly after their arrival Mr. Guthrie called, 
and many others dropped in during the evening, 
and the spacious rooms were gay with light laugh- 
ter and merry repartee. 

Seeing Mr. Guthrie standing a little apart from 
the others, Edna went to him and said : “ I wish to 
speak with you alone a few minutes.” 

He courteously offered her his arm to escort her 
across the long drawing-rooms to the conservatory 
beyond. She disdainfully refused it, but walked 
silently and proudly at his side, until they had 
gone half the length of the conservatory, then 
turning, she faced him, saying : 

“ I am the bearer of a parcel to you from Mamie 
Howard. She sent it by me because she feared she 
did not have your correct address, as she had re- 
ceived no answer to the letter she wrote you.” 

There was no mistaking the scornful gleam in 
Edna’s blue eyes, and Guthrie’s face flushed an- 
grily as he accepted the parcel from her hands. 

“I believe that all country girls are fools! ” he 
said, insolently. “ They seem to think if a fellow 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


217 


passes a few hours in their company, and speaks a 
few compliments, he must needs desire to marry 
them.” 

Edna disdainfully replied : “It is too true that 
many of them cannot detect the base metal, but 
are willing to accept it for the true coin ; and are 
ready to believe a man is a gentleman because he 
has the manners and dress of one. They inno- 
cently think that the trusting love of a pure young- 
heart, must needs be a sacred thing in the eyes of 
him who called it forth ; but, alas ! it is not true, 
as poor Mamie Howard, who lies there dying, has 
found to her sorrow. But for him who has so 
recklessly sown thorns in her pathway, let him 
look to it, that he does not get the full measure of 
sorrow meted out to him.” 

Mr. Guthrie turned away from her, saying, with 
an ironical bow: “Miss Carlisle, I acknowledge 
your histrionic talent to be great, but I wearied of 
theatrics long ago. Therefore I beg you will par- 
don me if I leave you to try your powers on some 
one else.” 

His bearing was haughty and sarcastic, but 
there was a vague unrest in his heart, and he re- 
turned home very early, and retiring to his room, 
undid the parcel Mamie had sent. It contained a 
bracelet which he had given her the previous sum- 
mer. The gold band was set with opals, and the 
jewels gleamed wickedly in the gaslight. 

How well he remembered the delight mirrored in 


218 


EDNA CARLISLE: 


her dark eyes when he had clasped it around her 
white arm. How beautiful she had looked ! and 
Edna had said she was dying ! A dull pain tugged 
at his heart while he opened and read a letter 
which had been enclosed in the package. It ran 
as follows : 

“ Mr. Guthrie : — I herewith return the bracelet 
you gave me. Accept my best wishes for your 
future joy. While I live my most earnest desire 
will be for your happiness, though my peace and 
contentment of mind were valueless in your sight. 
I was a common wild flower growing by the high- 
way of your prosperity, and you stepped aside for 
a moment to crush the homely blossom. But I 
will not upbraid you, for you filled my heart with 
joy for a little season, although I doubt not I have 
dearly paid for that bliss, in the hopeless agony 
that has wrung my heart while I watched for the 
return of the beloved form that never came. Oh ! 
how wearily time has passed ! Days seem to have 
merged into weeks, weeks into months, and months 
into years, while I sorrowed for that gift of Heaven* 
which lent one moment of existence light, that 
dimmed the rest forever. 

“ ‘ And I have dreamed through all these years 
Of patient hope, and faith, and tears, 

That Love’s strong hand would put aside 
The barriers of place and pride ; 

Would reach the pathless darkness through, 

And draw me softly up to you. 


OE, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


219 


But that is past. If you should stray 
Beside my g~ave some future day, 
Perhaps the violets o’er my dust, 

May half betray their buried trust, 
And say— their blue eyes full of dew— 
She loved you better than you knew.’ 


“ M. H.” 


.220 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

u YOUTH ON THE PROW AND PLEASURE AT THE 
HELM.” 

“ Woman’s lot is on you— silent tears to weep, 

And patient smiles to wear through suffering’s hour. 

And sumless riches, from affection’s deep, 

To pour on broken reeds— a wasted shower! 

And to make idols, and to find them clay; 

And to bewail that worship. Therefore pray! ” 

The first week of Edna’s visit to Chicago passed 
swiftly by, and, surrounded upon every side by 
love and admiration, what wonder if she was 
happy and opened her heart to joy, as a dewy rose 
bud unfolds its petals to receive the sunbeams. 
Her debut into the select circle in which the Whit- 
neys moved, was, from a social point of view, a 
great success. She had already made for herself 
a reputation among people of literary taste, and 
when her admirers saw that she was young and 
beautiful, they burned before her the incense of 
honest adoration. She was dismayed. It was not 
for this that she had communed with God and na- 
ture, until she caught rays of Heaven’s own bright- 
ness, to retain with a poet’s pen ; but her friends 
were delighted that she excited so much admira- 
tion, and Earl loved her none the less that others 
found her so lovable. His pure and tender love 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


221 


for his betrothed was one fair, redeeming feature 
in a character not altogether stainless. 

He had loved her long and truly, and his love 
bore no more taint of earth, than pure white lilies 
reflect the murkiness of the pool below them. And 
as he stood beside her one morning, listening to 
her sweet, low voice, which to him was purest 
music, happiness smiled in his eyes, and love and 
youth rested like a crown of glory upon his brow. 

“ May I interrupt your £ converse sweet? ’ ” said 
a gay, musical voice, and looking around they be- 
held Beulah standing in the doorway. 

She was looking very lovely, her complexion 
was ‘ lilies and roses,’ and the garnet dress which 
she wore contrasted beautifully with her golden 
hair, which was coiled upon her head in a shining, 
fluffy mass, that might well have represented 
woven sunbeams. 

Her wondrous grey eyes were lighted up with 
pleasure, and her jeweled fingers clasped an invi- 
tation card, as she said, “ Invitations to a party at 
Mrs. Sherwood’s. Will you go, Edna ? Of course 
it is quite out of the question that the rest of us 
should refuse.” 

Earl smilingly said, “ I think it quite out of the 
question that Edna should refuse, after such a 
triumph as she enjoyed at the party which we 
went to the other evening.” 

Beulah answered, laughing scornfully, “I da 
not think you used the word enjoyed advisedly.- 


222 


EDNA CARLISLE 1 


To my mind, Edna did not appear to enjoy the 
adulation which she received, at all ; though I con- 
fess so much flattery would have quite turned my 
head when I made my debut into the fashionable 
world; I am not sure it did not get a little bit 
awry, as it was. Shall you go, Edna ? ” 

Edna was smiling very gravely now, as she re- 
plied, “That depends — is it to be a conversa- 
zione ? ” 

“Principally; but judging by my past experi- 
ence at Mrs. Sherwood’s parties, I should say that 
nothing will be omitted that would make the 
evening pass pleasantly to guests of different 
tastes. It will be something similar to the one 
we attended the other evening, only it will be on 
a grander scale. Mrs. Sherwood always excels.” 

“ Wine, and cards, and dancing,” said Edna, as 
she walked to the window and looked out into 
the street. “No, I cannot go.” 

The brother and sister looked at each other in 
surprise, then Beulah said, lightly : 

“ O you little Puritan ! has your tender con- 
science been annoying you about attending that 
party ? ” 

“ No,” said Edna, gravely, “ I went in ignorance 
of the nature of the party to which I had ac- 
cepted an invitation.” 

“ 0 pshaw ! Edna,” Beulah exclaimed, contempt- 
uously. “ Do cast aside those whimsical fancies, 
and go in for a winter’s enioyment. I know that 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 


223 


witli a little instruction you could dance like a 
fairy.. Earl waltzes divinely, and could teach you 
equal to a dancing master.” 

Then seeing Edna’s lip curl scornfully, Beulah 
continued : 44 You are too young and pretty, my 
dear, to be so puritanical. Enjoy yourself now, 
and by and by, when you get old, if you will be 
religious, it won’t seem so incongruous. Religion 
corresponds very nicely with white hairs, but for 
one of your age — pshaw! it is simply ridiculous.” 

Earl looked up apprehensively. He knew 
Edna’s disposition well enough to be certain that 
his sister had not chosen an argument likely to 
influence her. 

Edna faced Beulah now ; her cheeks were very 
pale, for her heart was stirred to its deepest depths. 
4 4 What is it you would have me do ? ” she said, 
“ desert the standard of my Lord, and spend all 
my youth and strength — that might be used in 
winning souls for Him — spend my days and nights 
in a dissipation that gives no real pleasure, and is 
naught but vanity and vexation of spirit ; and then 
when I become old, shall I cast myself at my 
Savior’s feet and cry, 4 Here, Lord, I give myself 
away, ’tis all that I can do? ’ ” 

There was a touch of irony in her tones as she 
repeated the last words. Then she added : 

44 1 do not believe the manner of life you wish 
me to adopt gives the most happiness in time, cer- 
tainly not in eternity. But even if I believed the 


224 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


present enjoyment to be greater, I would still: 
faithfully use the talents my God has given me, 
and strive to keep myself ‘unspotted from the 
world.’ ” 

Earl was touched by the pathos of her voice, 
and he said : 

“You shall be annoyed no more about this 
party, or about going any place which you would 
prefer staying away from; but I hope you will 
honor me with your company to the opera this 
evening ? I particularly desire you to go, as I wish 
to present some of my friends to you.” 

There was a sorrowful, pleading expression in 
her violet eyes, as she raised them to his, saying : 
“ O, Earl, I am so sorry to disappoint you, but this 
is prayer-meeting night, and I could not miss that. 
Some other evening I will go with you.” 

“ Good heavens ! Edna,” exclaimed Beulah, 
deeply exasperated. “What possible enjoyment 
can you find in going to prayer-meeting ? Or per- 
haps you go as a penance for your many sins.” 

Edna replied : “I go because I regard it as a 
duty, and because it is a source of spiritual 
strength to me. But you can no more understand 
the pleasure which a Christian derives from these 
meetings, than he who stands on the outside of a 
building which contains a beautifully painted win- 
dow, can see the beauty which is only visible from 
within.” 

“ Well,” sighed Beulah, “ I am sure I don’t know 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


225 


how you and Earl will manage when you are mar- 
ried ; evidently you belong to different worlds.” 

Earl looked at Edna with a smile. 

“ When that happy time comes,” he said, “ we 
will each give up our own wishes and inclinations, 
and choose some happy medium, will we not, my 
darling ? ” 

Edna sadly regarded him for a moment, and 
tears stole into her eyes, and her voice was tremu- 
lous with emotion, as she replied : 

“ Not even to please you, Earl, can I depart from 
my convictions of right, and my loyalty to God. 
0, 1 know now why our Heavenly Father, in infi- 
nite solicitude for his children, has bidden them, 
‘Be not unequally yoked together with unbeliev- 
ers.’ It was because he knew that if they were 
their hearts would be pierced through with many 
sorrows.” 

Other members of the family now came into 
the room, and the subject was dropped. 

Late that afternoon, as Earl was leaving the 
bank to return home, he was accosted by a famil- 
iar voice, and turned to find himself face to face 
with Bertie Boss, a friend who had been absent 
from the city for some time. 

After conversing for a few minutes, Boss said : 

“ They tell me that you are engaged, and I have 
been hearing marvelous stories of the grace and 
beauty of your betrothed, and I am longing to be 


226 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


introduced to her ; shall you bring her to the opera 
to-night ? ” 

“ Yes, I think so,” Earl replied. 

He was so anxious to have Edna go, that he 
could not believe that she would refuse to do so 
when she saw how much he really desired it. 

Bidding a gay adieu to his friend, Earl went to a 
florist’s, and purchased for Edna a bouquet of rare 
flowers, and carried it home with a happy smile 
resting upon his face. 

He told himself that his friends should see how 
well he had chosen. He could well imagine the 
admiration that would be bestowed upon his be- 
loved. And yet it was not for her beauty of face 
or form that he loved her ; he had seen women as 
beautiful, possibly more beautiful, than Edna ; and 
yet for them he had no other feeling than admira- 
tion. 

Like Flossie, Earl was a passionate admirer of 
the beautiful in all its forms, from a flower to a 
woman ; but Edna possessed something greater 
than personal beauty ; genius glorified her maiden 
brow, and goodness and love dwelt peacefully in 
her heart; and she wore her pure, white robe of 
spotless innocence, like a creature of light, appar- 
ently unconscious that others were not attired in 
like garments of lilied whiteness. 

“ Ah, well,” he thought, “ she is fair, and sweet, 
and saintly, and I am all unworthy of her ; but I 
will always be kind and true to her.” Then re- 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


227 


membering how her violet eyes always lighted up 
with love for him, he buried his handsome face in 
the fragrant bouquet in an ecstasy of happiness. 

Poor fellow ! he was very much in love, and all 
unconscious of the disappointment in store for 
him. 

When he arrived at home he missed his be- 
trothed’s welcoming smile, and seeing a servant 
maid passing through the hall, he said : 

“ Tell Miss Carlisle that I desire a few minutes 
conversation with her in the library.” 

“ She has gone out, sir,” said the girl. “ You 
ivill find a note from her lying on your table.” 

Earl wonderingly bounded up the stair, and en- 
tering his room, found the dainty missive awaiting 
him. Breaking the seal, he read : 

“Bear Earl : — Mrs. Russell (nee Atwood) called 
this morning and insisted that Aunt Nellie and I 
should dine with her this evening. She is to en- 
tertain, among other visitors, an old minister (a 
standard bearer in the church,) whom we have 
long desired to meet. We shall go from Mrs. Rus- 
sell’s to prayer-meeting. Will you not meet us 
there, my Earl, and accompany us home ? 

“Ever yours, 

“Edna.” 

Earl was in a rage of vexation and disappoint- 


228 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


ment ; he tore Edna’s note and cast it angrily from 
him. 

He was angry, not only that she had refused to 
accompany him to the opera, hut she had commit- 
ted a second offence in seeking to draw him to 
prayer-meeting. 

Prayer-meeting, indeed ! he had never attended 
one in his life, and never expected to do so. 

He was accustomed to having his own way, and 
this first conflict of wishes between himself and his 
betrothed, vexed him sorely. 

He was so anxious to present her to his friends, 
and if she would go nowhere except to church, 
how were they to meet her ? 

He crushed her flowers beneath his heel with an 
angry ejaculation. Then he looked down upon the 
poor, crushed blossoms, breathing out their last 
fragrant breath upon the air, and his face softened. 
Perhaps it was because flowers were so closely as- 
sociated in his mind with Edna. They were usu- 
ally her only ornament, and when he once spoke 
to her of this peculiarity, she replied that she pre- 
ferred them, “ because, unlike gold and jewels, the 
hand of man could not brighten and polish them, 
and make them more beautiful than when they left 
the hand of the Creator.” 

Earl picked up the crushed blossoms ; somehow 
looking at them caused his anger toward Edna to 
melt away. 

Her offence had not been so grievous after all, he 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


229 


thought. She had only complied with her friend’s 
urgent request, seconded, doubtless, by Mrs. Evert, 
and had but followed the convictions of her own 
pure heart, when she asked him to come to prayer- 
meeting ; and was it not her loyalty to her convic- 
tions of right which had made her character 
so lovable in his eyes ? Besides there would be 
many other evenings when she could go with him ; 
.she had promised she would. Why should he be 
so foolishly impatient ? 

He picked up the torn note, and piecing it to- 
gether, re-read : 

“Will you not meet us there, my Earl?” 

What a tender, loving appeal, he thought. Yes, 
he would go. He could imagine how the delicate 
•color would flush her cheeks, and her eyes 
brighten when she should see him there. 

“ Bear, sweet soul ! ” he murmured. “ Oh, I pray 
Heaven to bless my darling. Whatever comes to 
me, Heaven bless my darling ! ” 

A few hours later as he was descending the 
steps, ready to enter the carriage to drive to the 
church, he met Maurice Guthrie. 

“ Well I am just in time,” said Mr. Guthrie. “ I 
see you are going out.” 

“ Yes,” said Earl, constrainedly, “I have an en- 
gagement.” 

“Anything important, Whitney? I am very 
anxious you should go to the club this evening. 
Where were you going ? ” 


230 


EDXA CARLISLE; 


“My aunt and Miss Carlisle have gone to> 
prayer-meeting, and wished me to escort them 
home,” Earl explained, confusedly. 

Mr. Guthrie folded his arms and laughed de- 
risively. “Haven’t elected you for deacon yet,, 
have they ? ” he inquired. 

“ Come, Whitney, that is all nonsense. Better 
begin as you expect to hold out. You can send 
the carriage for them, and it will be just as well 
as if you had gone there yourself; and in the* 
meantime you can spend a jolly evening with the^ 
boys. They have been inquiring about you a 
good deal lately ; and I made the best excuses for 
you that I could, for — hang it all, I won’t go back 
on a friend; but I wouldn’t advise you to stay 
away much longer, for they would run you high if 
they found out you had been attending prayer- 
meeting.” 

Earl stood irresolute a few moments ; good and 
evil were contending in his heart. He well knew 
that the scene of gayety which he was solicited to 
join was one from which his betrothed’s pure na- 
ture would shrink with repulsion ; but he had too 
long indulged in a downward course to be able to 
readily resist temptation now; especially with 
that seductive voice in his ear, and more than all 
he feared the derisive laughter of his friends ; so 
he gave the coachman directions to fetch Mrs. 
Evert and Miss Carlisle home from church; and. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


231 


then, turning, locked arms with his so-called 
friend, and let him lead him whither he would. 

But we must now return to Edna. She and Mrs. 
Evert had spent a very pleasant afternoon with 
their old friend. Esther Bussell possessed a very 
beautiful home, and was evidently a happy wife 
and mother. She had two children, Clara, the 
eldest, five years old, and a boy two years 
younger, who bore a striking resemblance to his 
uncle Homer, for whom he had been named. 

His face wore the same beautiful expression, his 
hair rippled away from a broad white brow, and 
his great laughing brown eyes looked “ peace and 
good will 55 to all the world. 

Esther had changed little since they saw her 
last. She was of that happy temperament over 
which time has little power; the passing years 
might steal some of the roundness and bloom from 
her cheeks, and change her golden brown hair to 
silver; but she would always be lovely, because 
her face was but the index of a happy spirit, 
upon whom the Master has pronounced blessing, 
because their pure hearts enable them to “ see 
God.” 

The hours spent in Esther’s happy home were 
very pleasant to Edna, for there she met with 
those who look beyond the things of time and 
sense ; but when Earl failed to meet them as she 
had requested, her heart sank heavily with dread 
of an unhappy future. 


232 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Would it always be so? slie wondered. He to 
travel' one path, and she another ; bound together 
by love’s strong bond, yet separated in the most 
important things of life. 

When they returned home from prayer-meeting, 
they found many callers gathered there, whom 
Mrs. Whitney and her daughters were entertaining 
with admirable grace and cleverness. 

Mrs. Evert joined them, but Edna felt too sad 
and dispirited to meet company, so she stole 
quietly into the library, and selecting a book, 
sought oblivion from the sad thoughts harassing 
her. 

She sat there reading for perhaps two hours, 
her mind being drawn off on the wings of fancy 
by a gifted writer. She heard the last caller 
depart ; heard Beulah and Ivy gaily ascending to 
their rooms. Mrs. Whitney and Mrs. Evert were 
evidently having a quiet chat in the deserted 
drawing-room, for Edna could hear their low 
voices and soft laughter. 

Heart and brain alike weary, she at last laid 
down her book to retire to her room, wondering if 
it were possible for her to sleep with her mind so 
sadly oppressed. 

Just as she was crossing the wide hall to ascend 
the stair, she heard the grating of a night key in 
the door, and in another moment Earl stepped into 
the hall. 

He was vainly trying to steady his reeling 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


233 


steps, and started visibly at seeing Edna there. 
He had expected to pass to his room unobserved 
and sleep off the effect of his revelry before he 
met her pure eyes. 

Too well she understood his condition; the ex- 
periences of her early years had indelibly im- 
pressed upon her memory the look of the in- 
ebriate. 

A low, wailing cry broke from her lips, and she 
.grew pale and faint, and clung feebly to the 
balustrade. Earl staggered guiltily up the stair- 
way, his mind filled with but one thought, one 
desire, to escape to his room as soon as possible. 
When half way up the stair he missed his footing, 
and would have fallen had he not clung desper- 
ately to the balustrade. 

Mrs. Evert came into the hall a moment later, 
and found Edna standing there with pallid face, 
trembling violently from head to foot. 

Mrs. Evert was greatly alarmed and drew the 
young girl to her bosom with endearing words and 
eager questionings, to which she could obtain no 
reply ; but there was a world of agony in Edna’s 
violet eyes as she sobbed, “ Oh, aunt Nellie, take 
me home ! My heart is broken ! ” 


234 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XXIV . 

“to suffer and be strong.” 

“Oh, fear not in a world like this, 

And thou shalt know ere long,— 

Know how sublime a thing it is, 

To suffer and be strong.” 

Edna did not lay her head upon the pillow that 
night. The greatest sorrow of her life had come 
upon her, and all through the long, weary hours, 
she- sat by the window and gazed out into the 
pale moonlight, wringing her white hands, and 
moaning piteously. 

She dimly wondered why she had not died 
before this came to pass? Had she not already 
suffered enough through the evil of intemperance 
without seeing her true, noble Earl become its 
victim ? 

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” she wailed under her 
breath, raising her tearless, agonized face Heaven- 
ward. “Oh, God, is there no help! Must the 
brightest and best of our land go down beneath 
this curse, while we who would freely give our 
heart’s blood to save them, stand by and see the 
havoc wrought? My brother’s blood has long 
cried out to me, and now, oh, God ! woe is heaped 
upon woe ! ” 

The next morning she wandered into the con- 
servatory, herself as pale and calm as the call a, 


or, Flossie’s violet. 235 

lily. Earl found her there when he came down at 
a late hour. 

He was feeling harassed and fretful, but tried to 
appear calm and natural, as he passed the greet- 
ings of the morning, and began to apologize for 
not complying with the request contained in her 
note. 

He shrank, however, from the gaze of her great, 
troubled eyes, for they seemed to be reading his 
very soul, while he begged her forgiveness ; adding 
that it had been quite impossible for him to do as 
she had requested. 

“I could forgive you much,” she sadly replied; 
“but, oh, what I have suffered since you came 
home last night; you almost broke my heart, 
Earl.” 

He had believed until then that she had not 
been aware of his condition. 

“I suppose you mean to imply that I was 
drunk,” he angrily exclaimed. More angrily than 
he was aware, for he was taken by surprise, and 
was also feeling nervous and fretful as a result of 
last night’s revelry. “But if your suppositions 
were true,” he added, “it is not such a terrible 
crime. You might easily overlook that; other 
women do.” 

Edna sorrowfully replied — 

“ I do not boast of the measure of my love for 
you; but this I know; that joy or sorrow, life or 
death, are of small moment to me when compared 


236 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


with your welfare. But, dearly as I love you, 
Earl, I can never marry a drunkard.’’ 

Earl was stung to the quick by her words. 
“Then give me back my ring,” he cried, on the 
impulse of the moment. “Since I am so con- 
temptible in your eyes, return my ring.” With 
trembling fingers she took off the ring and laid it 
in his hand, her face full of agonized entreaty. 

He cast the ring on the floor, and ground it 
beneath his heel until the jewels were a mass of 
glittering dust. 

“Fair and frail as woman’s love,” he said 
bitterly. “ Yery pretty to admire and talk about, 
but of no endurance.” 

The pain Edna endured during that scene no 
pen can describe. To her it seemed the death of 
love and hope, crushed beneath the vindictive heel 
of him she had loved dearer than aught else on 
earth. She sank upon a seat; the agonized wail 
breaking unconsciously from her lips, — “My God! 
my God ! why hast Thou forsaken me ? ” 

That cry recalled Earl’s better nature, and he 
was filled with shame and contrition. 

“ Forgive me, Edna,” he pleaded. “Forgive me, 
my love, though I can never forgive myself. All 
the days of my life I shall regret this unmanly 
act.” 

“ I forgive you, Earl,” she said, gazing at him 
with great, troubled eyes. “ But oh ! it had been 
kinder to me if you had stabbed me to the heart.” 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


237 


He gathered her to his breast with protestations 
of love and sorrow, but she shrank from his 
embrace ; her heart was bleeding too painfully 
from the wound which he had just inflicted, for 
her to accept his caresses. 

“ I shall purchase another ring to-day,” he said, 
“ to replace the one which I destroyed.” 

“No,” she replied in low, troubled tones, “that 
is the last betrothal ring I shall ever wear.” 

Earl’s heart was filled with grief and dismay; 
his voice was husky with emotion as he said — 

“Forgive me, Edna. I am so overcome with 
shame I hardly dare raise my eyes to your pure 
face. Believe me, there is nothing I would not do 
were it possible to recall by act of mine, that 
which I did last night and to-day. But God 
requite me according to my deed if I ever become 
intoxicated again. I mean to become more worthy 
of your love; it is only a short time until our 
marriage takes place ; and I am sure that with the 
shield of your constant companionship, I can 
resist temptation.” 

Edna wearily replied, “ Our marriage must be 
Indefinitely postpone <L We can never marry until 
you prove that you have overcome the influence 
of — of — ” She fell forward pale and breathless ; for 
the first time in her life Edna had fainted. 

Earl was frantic with fright and grief ; his sum- 
mons speedily brought the terrified women of the 
household upon the scene, and a messenger was 


238 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


dispatched for a physician. Before he arrived, 
however, Edna had become conscious and been 
borne to her room. 

The doctor prescribed opiates and quiet, saying 
that a littlo rest was all she needed, as she ap- 
peared to bo suffering from intense mental excite- 
ment. 

The narcotic which he administered soon took 
effect, and sho slept heavily for hours. Mean- 
while Mrs. Evert lingered near with motherly 
anxiety. 

Earl never left the house that day, but restlessly 
paced his suite of rooms, or stolo noiselessly to 
her door, and listened with eager, haggard face to 
learn if she was still sleeping. 

In the dusk of the evening she awoke, and the 
old dull heartache again assailed her. All the 
trouble she had ever known had come to her 
through the rum power, and she shrank from it 
with a dread and despair, that one who had never 
had her sad experience could not know. It seem- 
ed to her that dark clouds of sorrow were again 
hovering about her, shutting out light and hope. 

Mrs. Evert, who was sitting beside the bed, saw 
the dumb agony in the young girl’s eyes ; observed 
the convulsive clasping of her hands, and leaning 
over her said softly, in accents of pitying tender- 
ness, “My child.” That was all she said, but 
to the poor girl to whom she had indeed been as a 
mother, the words spoke volumes, and Edna laid 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


239 


her aching head upon the kind, motherly heart 
with a voiceless sob. 

Presently she inquired in a faltering voice, — 

“Where is Earl?” 

“ In the corridor, I think,” Mrs. Evert replied. 
“He is anxiously waiting to learn if you are 
feeling better.” 

Edna raised her head with an eager, anxious 
light in her eyes. 

“ Please tell him that I am better ; he must 
suffer no anxiety on my account. Say that I have 
been very much refreshed by my long sleep.” 

When Mrs. Evert went to deliver the message, 
she felt strongly inclined to reproach the young 
man ; but the sad expression of his face disarmed 
her of her resentment, and she only said, — “ Edna 
has not told me the cause of her trouble, but I 
strongly surmise that some action of yours has 
grieved her ; ” then laying her hand upon his arm 
in an appealing way, she added with a faltering 
of tears in her voice — 

“Earl, she is inexpressibly dear to me, almost 
as dear as my own Flossie, and I hope you will 
try to prove worthy of my lily flower.” 

Earl was silent for a moment; then he said, 
“Worthy of her I cannot be; but I will try to 
live a purer, better life.” 

The whole family had been greatly alarmed and 
annoyed by Edna’s sudden illness. Mrs. Whitney 
had invited a number of friends to dine with them 


240 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


that evening; and as she had decided to give the 
dinner mainly because she desired to make her 
friends acquainted with her son’s betrothed — of 
whose beauty and talents she was quite proud — 
naturally she felt deeply disappointed at Edna’s 
unaccountable illness. 

Learning that she was awake, Mrs. "Whitney 
came into the room with eager inquiries as to 
whether it were possible for Edna to meet their 
guests without taxing her strength unduly. 

She replied that she was still very weak, but 
would try to appear, since her friends so much de- 
sired it. 

It was late before she was able to descend to the 
drawing-room ; the guests had all arrived, and the 
hum of merry voices filled the spacious rooms. 
Earl moved among the assembled guests with gen- 
ial, high-bred courtesy, and with graceful atten- 
tions made each one feel welcome ; yet he was ever 
eagerly listening for Edna’s coming. His atten- 
tive ear caught the sound of her light step on tho 
stair, and he met her at the door, and escorted her 
to a seat. 

She was looking very lovely this evening, despite 
• the unusual pallor of her cheeks. In striking con- 
trast to the other ladies, who were dressed in light 
evening dresses with bare arms and shoulders, she 
wore a close-fitting black velvet, her only orna- 
ment being a cluster of blush roses. 

Many persons came forward and were presented 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


241 


to her, and all wondered at the pallor of the 
beautiful , weary face. 

She was instinctively drawn to Mr. Ross ; his 
face, though not handsome, was a face to be 
trusted ; a face that a woman or child in need of 
help would instinctively choose from among a 
crowd to make their appeal to. He was Edna’s 
escort to dinner, and though charmed with his fair 
companion, he wondered at her silence and pale 
cheeks. 

When the wine went round, Earl’s cheek flushed 
with eager desire for the ruby liquor, but glancing 
across the table to where Edna sat, he observed 
her troubled blue eyes resting wistfully upon him, 
and he quietly refused the wine. 

Edna turned to speak to Mr. Ross, who noted that 
a dainty pink color had crept into her cheeks, and 
wondered at the change. 

“You do not drink wine ? ” she said to him as 
she noticed that he had turned down his glasses. 

“ No, Miss Carlisle,” he replied, “ I never do. I 
had a Christian mother once. Alas ! she died 
when I was but sixteen; but I strive always to 
live as she would wish, were she alive. Her last 
words to me were, 4 Bertie, keep your hands and 
heart clean, and your life pure, that you may be 
permitted to enter the Heavenly City, whither I 
precede you. ’ 

“ I have met with much temptation, Miss Carlisle, 
16 


242 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


but my mother’s parting admonition has lived in 
my memory, and has always been a shield to me ; 
and I live in the hope of meeting my sainted 
mother in the life beyond, having, by God’s grace, 
4 kept my hands and heart clean, and my life 
pure. ’ ” 

Edna looked at him with shining eyes. “ I pray 
God you may,” she said fervently. “Well would 
it be for the rest of the world, if they so nobly kept 
the vows they make to those that love them.” 

The evening passed brightly and swiftly to hap- 
py hearts ; but Edna was still feeling ill and faint ; 
dark waters of sorrow seemed to encompass her, 
and heart-sick and weary, her mind tossed help- 
lessly among the dark waves, longing for peace 
and rest. 

looting the increasing pallor of her cheeks, and 
that the brooding shadow was deepening in her 
reyes, Earl conducted her to a curtained alcove, 
where she might, in a measure, enjoy seclusion ; 
and if she willed, could observe the happy groups 
in the brilliantly lighted room, and she herself re- 
main in shadow: 

Handsome and debonair he stood beside her, ob- 
serving all that passed within the room, yet speak- 
ing with her in soft, low tones, which made his 
commonest sentences seem instinct with love. 

By and by Mr. Guthrie drew near and joined in 
the conversation. Earl was presently called away 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


243 


for a moment, and Mr. Guthrie turned to Edna, 
saying, in low, mocking tones — 

“ Miss Carlisle, allow me to congratulate you on 
your truly wonderful success as a missionary in 
Chicago. Earl informed me last evening that he 
was going to prayer-meeting. I suppose you were 
delighted to see him there ? Considering the won- 
derful influence you exert, I almost fear to converse 
with you, lest I should be constrained to cry out, 
‘ Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian ! ’ ” 
She looked earnestly at him as she replied — 
“ You might at least have saved yourself that im- 
plication. Christianity, powerful as it is, seldom 
finds a lodgement in a breast from whence honor 
bas flown.” 

His eyes flashed angrily, but he replied lightly — 
“I see that on account of my inability to return 
the love of your little country friend, you are 
determined to believe all manner of evil against 
me. I once read a verse which so plainly ex- 
presses my sentiments with regard to love, that 
you must pardon me if I repeat it to you. The 
sentiment it voices must be my excuse for so light- 
ly valuing the love which was so easily won : 

‘ “ There is nothing held so dear 
As love, if only it be hard to win. 

The roses that in yonder hedge appear 
Outdo our garden-buds which bloom within ; 

But since the hand may pluck them every day, 

Unmarked they bud, bloom, drop and drift away.’ ” 


244 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Then he added mockingly — “ I shall yet win your 
esteem, Miss Carlisle. I am to “be married soon, yon 
know, and yon will he surprised to see that I will 
settle down and lead an irreproachable life.” 

“ I would indeed be surprised if that were the 
case,” she replied bitterly ; “ for no one ever yet 
scattered abroad the night-shade of sin and self- 
ishness in youth, and in maturity reaped the white 
flower of stainless purity.” 

Earl returned to them just then, and Mr. Guthrie 
turned to him saying, — - 

“ Miss Carlisle has been reading me a long hom- 
ily upon morality. Indeed she seems to have a 
contempt for all who do not pattern after her para- 
gon of excellence, Mr. Atwood. He is the standard 
by which she measures us all.” 

Edna’s cheeks flushed and her eyes gleamed 
darkly, but her manner was perfectly calm, as she 
replied — 

“ I measure good and evil only by the Divine 
standard, but Mr. Atwood’s character is indeed 
irreproachable, and ” — 

“ And, moreover,” Guthrie interposed, “ he is a 
most patient lover. Perhaps he has learned that 
when a man has the sympathy and admiration of 
the object of his affections, he may hope to win 
against many odds.” So saying, Guthrie turned 
and left them, hoping that the shaft had gone home 
and would rankle deeply. 

Earl looked at Edna in surprise. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


245 


44 Wliat does Maurice mean ? ” he inquired. 44 Is 
Homer Atwood your lover, Edna ? ” 

She replied : 44 He is my friend, and I owe him 
much. All that I have and am, came to me through 
his friendship for my "brother, when we were lowly 
.and in grief.” 

44 Then he is not my rival ? ” Earl questioned. 
His heart was stirred to jealousy Tby Guthrie’s 
word’s, and memory "brought forward a troop of 
apparently convincing proofs in favor of the sup- 
position which had never claimed his attention be- 
fore. 

44 You have no rival in my affections,” she said, 
softly. 44 It rests entirely with you whether you 
will retain my love or not.” 

44 Edna, you will not postpone our marriage ? 
Say that it may take place at the appointed time. 
You cannot realize how I tremble at the thought 
that if our marriage is postponed I may eventually 
lose you.” 

Her voice trembled, and she was white to the 
lips, as she replied : 

44 Earl, if you love me do not urge this matter 
further ; cannot you see I am suffering ? My child- 
hood was one of continued sorrow, and yet I have 
suffered more in the last twenty -four hours than I 
endured in all those years of darkness and gloom.” 


246 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XXV. 

“YOU WILL WAKE, AND REMEMBER, AND UNDER' 
STAND.” 

u You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, 

But the scent of the rose will cling round it still.” 

Two weeks later, Beulah and Maurice Guthrie 
were married, and departed for Europe, expecting 
to spend the remainder of the winter in Italy. Dr. 
Evert had come to Chicago to witness the marriage 
of his niece, and Mrs. Evert and Edna returned 
home with him the following day. 

The day after their arrival home, Edna went over 
to see Mamie Howard. 

The doctor had said that Mamie was failing 
very fast, "but Edna had not realized that so great 
a change could be wrought in so short a time, until 
she was ushered into the room where the sick girl 
lay. 

Mamie held out a thin, white hand, and a wintry 
smile flitted across her wasted features. Then she 
glanced apprehensively toward her father, who sat 
in a distant corner, his bowed head and sorrowful 
aspect betokening his inward grief. Speaking in a 
low whisper, she said : 

“You saw him? Mr. Guthrie, I mean. What 
did he say when you gave him the parcel I sent ? 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


247 


“ He did not say much,” Edna replied, evasively, 
“ but I think his feelings were touched a little.” 

A shade of sadness stole across Mamie’s face. 

Perhaps I ought not to have written,” she said, 
6 but I could not keep his gift when he was to be 
married so soon, and the temptation to write him a 
few words was yery strong, for I realized that I 
should never see him again. He may come here 
visiting sometime with his gay young bride, but I 
shall be cold and quiet then, and could not hear 
his tread if he should care to come and stand 
beside my grave.” 

Gazing wistfully into Edna’s face, Mamie in- 
quired : “ Did he send no message to me ? ” 

Edna struggled to keep back the tears of sympa- 
thy that welled to her eyes, as she replied in the 
negative. 

Mamie was evidently disappointed ; she clasped 
her hands convulsively, and great tears crept 
through her closed lids and trickled down her thin, 
white cheeks. 

After awhile she controlled her emotion, and her 
large, mournful dark eyes read Edna’s face, as she 
inquired : 

“ Did he seem happy ? Will she make him 
happy, do you think ? ” 

Edna longed to reply that he was likely to be 
far happier than he deserved, but she feared to 
wound the sensitive nature of the sick girl. 

At that moment the jingle of sleigh bells was 


248 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


heard, and looking out, Edna saw that the occu- 
pants of the sleigh were Mrs. Atwood and Homer. 

They alighted at the gate, and as they came 
slowly up the walk, they unconsciously formed a 
pleasing picture. The sunset of life was shedding 
a mellow glow over Mrs. Atwood’s waning beauty, 
as she leaned lovingly and gracefully on the 
arm of her strong, young son. 

Homer was evidently delighted to meet Edna, 
for his cheeks flushed, and his hand trembled, 
when he held hers in greeting. 

His loving eyes instantly noticed a changed ex- 
pression in her face — the look of a noble soul who 
bravely bears the burden of another’s sin. 

What was the cause ? he wondered. 

His eyes sought her finger whereon her betrothal 
ring had rested. It was gone ! 

A look of keen surprise, that instantly was 
veiled, passed over his face ; but Edna caught the 
fleeting glance, and the rose-bloom covered her fair 
face, then their eyes met for one lingering moment. 
How wonderful is the language of the eye — that 
communion of souls when lips are silent. The 
rebel rose-hue more deeply dyed Edna’s cheeks, 
and Homer’s eyes beamed with their old-time 
luster. 

Many times thereafter Edna met Mrs. Atwood at 
the bed-side of the sick girl, and she grew to love, 
with deep affection, the saintly, white-haired 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


249 


woman who seemed to live so fully in the light of 
the other world. 

Edna finally spent all her time at the cottage. 
Mamie clung to her with intense fondness, and with 
tears in his eyes, Mr. Howard begged Edna to stay 
with his fading blossom until the end came. 

“ It is breaking my heart,” he said, shaking his 
grey head, pathetically. “ But why do I weep to 
part from her ? She will not long have reached the 
Promised Land, until I too cast my pilgrim staff 
away, and rest beside her beneath the boughs of 
the Tree of Life.” 

Mamie lingered on for several weeks ; her cough 
was not painful, it seemed rather the gradual 
wasting away of one who has not the will to live. 

W eaker and whiter yet she grew, and one day 
at the last, when Dr. Evert called to prescribe for 
her, she roused herself, and inquired how long she 
was likely to live. 

He regarded her sadly a moment, not liking to 
answer. 

Seeing him hesitate, she said : 

“ Fear not to answer, for I tell you it is with glad 
calmness I behold the veil falling between me and 
the world wherein my heart so ill hath rested.” 

Dr. Evert replied huskily : “ The end will come 
in a few days at most, possibly in a few hours.” 

Her father was standing by the bed-side, his tall 
form shaking with emotion. 


250 


EDNA CAKLISLE; 


She put out her hand to him, feebly repeating,, 
in a sweet, weak voice : 

“‘Be thou glad — I say rejoice above your fa- 
vored child, who, when her life had changed its 
glittering robes for the dull garb of sorrow, which 
doth cling so heavily around the journey ers on — 
cast down its weight and — slept.’” 

All evening her father sat by her pillow, his face 
hidden in his toil-worn hands, and his form con- 
vulsed with sobs ; and she regarded him sorrow- 
fully, large tears filling her mournful dark eyes,, 
while ever and anon she lifted her weak, white* 
hands, and ran her fingers lovingly through his 
silvery hair. Once she said, softly : 

“ I grieve to leave you, Father ; but for myself — 
the God of Help comes in the quiet darkness, and 
doth warm my trembling soul beneath his smile. 
But ’tis sad to leave you, old and alone in the 
world. Naturally, I had expected to outlive you, 
and had thought that when death came to claim 
you, that you would pass away with your head 
resting on my breast. But now, oh, I must go, and 
who will care for my poor old father ? ” 

The next morning as Edna sat beside the bed, 
Mamie said : 

“You will see Mr. Guthrie sometime. Tell hinr 
that with my dying breath I prayed for him and 
his. There are depths in a true woman’s nature 
that he never fathomed. Tell him that when fair- 
young daughters grow up about him, then he will 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


251 


realize that it is no light thing for a man to win 
the precious jewel of a young girl’s love, merely 
for the pleasure of observing the last bright rays it 
may emit, as he casts it from him into the sea of 
oblivion.” 

An hour later, as Edna sat beside Mamie, brush- 
ing out her long, dark hair, and speaking to her 
of that other world, and of death as but passing 
through the veil that divides this world from the 
unseen, Mamie put out her thin, white hand, and 
softly stroking Edna’s cheek, said : 

“You have been as God’s own angel to me.. 
Never was there a kinder friend than you have 
been to me, and you have pictured the New Je- 
rusalem for me, until I can see it always before 
my eyes. You have brought flowers to cheer me 
in my sickness, and I pray that all the holy 
angels may spread flowers in your pathway, un- 
til you come to join me where the ‘ nations walk in 
white.’ If the inhabitants of that other world do 
know the friends of this, oh, I will give you a joy- 
ful welcome there ! ” 

Presently she said : “ If Frank Allen comes to- 
day, as usual, to inquire after me, bid him come 
in. I wish to speak to him.” 

It was but a few minutes until he came. Mr. 
Howard met him at the door, and was telling him 
the condition of the sufferer, and the young man’s 
face was overspread with an expression of inex- 
pressible sadness. A look of pleasure passed over 


252 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


his face, however, when Edna communicated to 
him Mamie’s desire ; but when conducted to the 
sick room, he was evidently shocked to behold the 
change wrought by disease in the beautiful face 
of his beloved ; and when he clasped in his large, 
brown hand, the frail, white one which she held 
out to him, he was unable to control his emotion. 

“ Don’t grieve for me, Frank,” she said, looking 
at him, mournfully. “Don’t! It hurts me to see 
you all weep so over parting from me, when I go 
so gladly.” 

“ Oh, Mamie ! ” he exclaimed, “ I love you so, I 
have loved you all my life ; and it is worse than 
death to me to see you suffer.” 

“ Yes, I know you love me. Since I have lain 
here, I have though much of your patient, ten- 
der love for me. I remembered how you used to 
take me to school upon your sled when we were 
children ; how you always watched over me, and 
feared lest I should feel the cold of winter or 
the heat of summer ; and how, when mother died 
and I felt so folorn and desolate, you came and 
wept with me, and tried to comfort me ; and when 
I grew up you were always patient with my wilful 
ways. I once expected to spend my life at your 
side ; but — he came and changed my world for 
me. But I know now that you are far the nobler 
of the two. I hope and pray that you will be 
happy yet, Frank. Sometime you will win a fair 


or, Flossie's violet. 253 

young wife who will value your true, noble nature 
as you deserve.” 

“Never will there be a wife of mine,” he said 
huskily. “You hold all my heart-strings in your 
weak, white hands, and with the closing of your 
eye-lids all the brightness and sweetness of my life 
shall die out; and often, often through winter’s 
snows, or summer’s soft twilight, I shall come and 
weep over your grave.” 

She looked sadly at him and said, “ Be true to 
your noble nature, and your God, and we shall 
meet in the Glad Beyond.” 

Then she closed her eyes faintly, and casting 
one last, lingering look at the beloved face, he 
passed out of the room. 

Mamie lived on yet another day, but she gradu- 
ally grew weaker and weaker, her breath coming 
in faint gasps, and finally ceased. Then came a 
low, shuddering moan, a triumphant brightness 
overspread her features, and they knew that the 
soul had Darted from the body. 

Rest, fond true heart, tliy pains are o’er ; 

For thee earth pangs doth cease ; 

And love can bruise thy heart no more, 

Thou hast entered into peace. 

The grief of her heart-broken father was painful 
to witness. Mrs. Atwood, who was present, vainly 
strove to console him ; but he sat in his dusky cor- 


254 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Her pathetically shaking his grey head, and ejacu- 
lating in disconnected sentences — 

“ Oh, woe is me ! My poor, wounded dove ! My 
broken flower ! Oh, woe is me ! My nestling is 
taken from me ! Oh, that the grave would cover 
my sorrow ! ” 

A cold, drizzling rain had been falling all day, 
and toward evening, when Edna had done all she 
could to adorn and beautify the bed of death, she 
went to the window and looked out into the gath- 
ering gloom. How cold and dreary it seemed ; in 
a distant part of the yard she perceived a man 
standing beneath a tree, gazing steadily at the 
house. In a moment she knew it was Frank Allen, 
and her heart bled for his patient sorrow. Going 
out upon the porch she beckoned him to her. 

“ My dear friend,” she said, “ you must not mourn 
so hopelessly ; it would grieve Mamie could she 
know. Here is a lock of her hair which she bade 
me cut off and give to you. ” 

He trembled with emotion as he received the 
tress of hair, and he said: “Oh, Miss Carlisle, 
may I see her now, that I may bid her good-bye, 
unwatched by curious eyes ? ” 

“ Surely you may,” she answered, and led the 
way to where the young girl lay, apparently in 
peaceful slumber. 

A white rose was nestling in her dark hair, and 
one hand clasped to her bosom a cluster of hearts- 


ease. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


255 


Edna looked out of the window through a mist 
of blinding tears, while he took leave of his dead 
love. 

She could hear the sobbing of a strong soul in 
hopeless agony ; then he became more tranquil, 
.and before he left she heard him saying softly : — 

“ I have loved you, Mamie, long and deep. 

I will put a flower in the sw r eet, cold hand. 

There, that is our secret, peacefully sleep. 

‘You will wake, and remember, and understand.” 7 


256 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

SAINT AND SINNER. 

“ But upon your fair, fair forehead no regrets nor griefs are 
dwelling, 

Neither sorrow nor disquiet do the peaceful features know; 
Nor that look, whose wistful beauty seems their sad hearts to 
be telling, 

‘ Daylight breaketh, let me go ! ’ ” 

We will no longer dwell npon a sorrowful inci- 
dent, nor pause to relate how the whole neighbor- 
hood turned out to weep with Mr. Howard over the 
loss of his darling. Loving hands had covered her 
coffin with white, fragrant flowers, the summer’s 
drifted snow. And upon her cold, white face, 
across which no living light would ever again play, 
a smile, tender and holy rested. 

“ Calm, and draped in snowy raiment, she lies still, as one that 
dreameth, 

And a grave, sweet smile hath parted dimpled lips that may 
not speak ; 

Slanting down that narrow sunbeam like a ray of glory gleameth 
On the sainted brow and cheek.” 
i 

1 “Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep,” they sang 
before taking her away from loving eyes, to lay 
her in her lowly bed to sleep peacefully, serenely, 
unawaked by song birds, the flutter of autumn 
leaves, or drift of winter’s snow. No, never would 


ok, Flossie’s violet. 


257 


those dropt lids open again, until she is awaked 
to look upon the beauty of the New Heaven and 
New Earth, and hear the King of kings say, 
“ Come, ye blessed of my Father.” 

We will leave the readers to picture for them- 
selves the grief of the heart-broken father and 
loving friends as they gaze for the last time on the 
mortal remains of Mamie Howard. 

And now we would recall your mind from the 
lonely grave, and beg you to stray with us in 
fancy to the home of Edna Carlisle. 

Upon the morning of which we write, Mrs. Evert 
and Edna are waiting with considerable anxiety 
for the return of the doctor, who has been absent 
ever since the previous afternoon. 

It is the week succeeding the burial of Mamie, 
and sickness and death seem to be hovering over 
the whole country; Hr. Evert finds himself quite 
unable to answer all the calls made upon him, 
although he waits both day and night upon his 
patients. 

Speaking of him, Mrs. Evert said uneasily, — 

“ He is taxing his strength too much. He takes 
no time for sleep or rest, and I fear he. will be ill 
himself, and then he will find that it had been the 
greater kindness to others, as well as himself, if 
he had husbanded his strength.” 

“Yonder he comes, Auntie,” exclaimed Edna, 
who had been standing at the window gazing in 
the direction whence he was expected. 

17 


258 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Presently Dr. Evert entered the house, looking 
decidedly sleepy and exhausted, and Mrs. Evert 
met him in the hall to exchange loving greetings. 

Their love was of the highest type ; having 
begun in early life it had grown and strengthened, 
until it had become what God meant love to be — 
the highest, holiest, purest sentiment pertaining 
to this mortal life. 

After he had entered the dining-room, and 
greeted Edna, he sank wearily into a chair, saying, 
in answer to their loving inquiries : 

“ Yes, I am quite worn out; but I have an elixer 
here that will brace me up wonderfully, I think — 
a letter from Flossie. The letter is addressed to 
you, Nellie,” he added, as he tossed the letter to 
his wife. 

Mrs. Evert received it with shining eyes, and 
her cheeks flushed with a glow of mother-love as 
she opened the letter and read aloud : — 

<( My Dear, Dear Mamma : — If I can keep the 
tears out of my eyes long enough, I will try to 
write you a short letter. Don’t be alarmed, I am 
only home-sick. Sometimes I wish that I could 
get really and truly sick ; then papa would come 
to see me, and perhaps you would come also. I 
want to see you, oh, so much ! I have covered this 
sheet of paper with kisses because I knew it 
would be held in the hands of my dear, lovely 
mamma. What would I not do to be permitted to 


OK, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


259 


"be with you all this evening ! I think. I would be 
willing to be clothed in 4 sack-cloth and ashes ’ 
(though I haven’t the faintest idea what a dress of 
that kind looks like) if I could but sit upon my 
papa’s lap, and hear him call me his 4 tow-headed 
lassie.’ I used to fret dreadfully at being called 
that, but now I would even submit to being called 
4 tow-head,’ for the sake of hearing his dear voice 
again. But oh, how I have been annoyed lately 
about my hair. My tormentor was our bald-pated 
Professor of Mathematics. I never liked him ; it 
always seemed to me that he shamefully abused 
the privilege of being ugly ; but recently he has 
annoyed me greatly by pouring flatteries into my 
unwilling ears, in season and out of season, and 
by passing his hand caressingly over my curls 
until I became so disgusted I shuddered at the 
sight of him. For several days 1 tried to coil my 
hair upon my head out of his way ; but it is so 
Ikiriky it looked horrid. In my vexation I would 
Ihave had my hair clipped close to my head, only 
I feared you would never forgive me if I did. 
Finally I despaired of ever being able to wear it 
in any manner except curled ; so I brushed my 
curls me r my finger again, quarreling tearfully 
that my hair was not straight. 

“That day after our lessons were over, I was 
obliged to return to the school-room for a book 
that I needed. I found the room empty, and after 
obtaining the book I desired, I went to the window 


t 


260 EDNA CARLISLE; 

and stood looking out, observing tbe view that lay 
before my eyes like a beautiful picture. A feeling 
of home-sickness swept over me as it recalled to 
my mind my own dear home, and loved ones there. 
And while I stood there struggling with my emo- 
tion, I heard a step beside me, and on looking 
around I beheld the obnoxious Professor at my 
side. (His head is perfectly bald excepting for a 
fringe of hair which grows around the base, and 
the sunlight falling upon it made it glisten and 
shine, until it seemed wonderfully large.) Taking 
one of my long curls in his hand he said, — ‘ I am 
pleased, Miss Flossie, that you are wearing your 
hair in curls again. It is so beautiful ; I admire 
your hair — ’ I retreated a step from him, saying 
a little disdainfully — ‘You admire hair? Yes, I 
presume so. It seems to be a law of nature to 
admire that which we do not ourselves possess/ 
I was about to add, that I had heard that the 
hairs of a man’s head are all numbered, and 
strongly advising him to try to obtain some of the 
‘back numbers,’ but he looked so crest-fallen that 
I forebore. Since then he has only spoken to me 
when necessary, and my curls can float in peace. 

“ My health is good, and I am keeping up well 
in my studies ; and I am counting the days — nay, 
almost the hours, until I can return home. I never 
imagined that it would be so lonely here without 
Violet. I cried a whole handkerchief full of tearfr 
about it last night, and as a compensation dreamed 


OE, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


261 


that we were having a grand ride across the 
country together. 

“ Good-bye, dear Mamma, I feel better now that I 
have told you how miserable I am. Don’t worry 
about me, I shall get along nicely. School will 
soon be over and I shall be the happiest girl alive, 
and papa can call me ‘tow-head’ just as often as 
he pleases. 

“ With love and kisses I am 

“ Affectionately, Youk Flossie.” 

Dr. Evert had listened to the reading of Flossie’s 
letter with alternate smiles and sighs. “Poor 
little lassie,” he said, “she must be very home- 
sick.” 

“ What can we do ? ” Mrs. Evert inquired anx- 
iously. 

“ I think it would be well for you to write to her 
that we will both come to see her soon, unless 
sickness continues to prevail at the present rate. 
In that case you will go alone unless Edna chooses 
to accompany you.” 

Still talking of the absent one, he sat down to 
breakfast. 

Edna stole away to the conservatory, and re- 
turning, laid a cluster of violets beside his plate. 
“Ah, I know what that means,” he said. “You 
know that I am longing to see my Flossie, and 
nothing seems to bring her so near as her favorite 
flower.” 


262 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


After finishing his repast he took from his 1 
pocket a city paper and began to read the morn- 
ing news. 

A few minutes later he exclaimed with a start,, 

“ Can it be possible ! Edna, my child, listen to 
this ! ” and he read aloud, — 

“ ‘ Attempted Burglary. 

“‘Last night two burglars entered the jewelry 
store of Ives and Son. They were discovered by 
policeman Mitchell, who attempted to arrest them. 
One of the men escaped ; the other in desperation 
fired at the officer, but missed, and the policeman 
in self-defense shot the man dead. He proves to 
be a notorious character named George Slater. 
Coroner’s inquest will be held to-day.’ ” 

Edna gave a low, shuddering cry, then reflecting 
a moment, said : 

“ I must let mother know.” 

“ What for ! ” exclaimed Dr. Evert, in surprise. 

“ I think she will want to give him a decent 
burial,” Edna replied, in a low tone. 

“ Then she is a fool ! ” he exclaimed, angrily. 
“ Let them bury him where they please, and ‘ good 
riddance to bad rubbish,’ I say ! ” • 

“ But he was her husband,” said Edna. “ God 
himself could not change that fact.” 

“I think Edna is right,” said Mrs. Evert. “ Her 
mother should be notified, and allowed to use her 
own judgment in the matter.” 


or, Flossie's violet. 


263 


Edna rose, saying : “I feel sure that mother will 
want to claim the body. I will go to her on the 
first train, and if such is her desire, I will accom- 
pany her upon her painful errand.” She stopped, 
and shuddered. “ It is a disagreeable task, but it 
is duty.” 

Dr. Evert’s face softened, and he said : “ I sup- 

pose you are in the right about it. I believe that 
women think with their hearts instead of their 
heads, anyway. However, I feel distressed be- 
cause it is impossible for me to get time to accom- 
pany you after the remains, and I dislike the idea 
of your going without a male escort.” 

“ I think you can rely on Homer Atwood,” Mrs. 
Evert interposed. 

“ I am sure of it,” Dr. Evert replied. “ I will see 
him about it this morning.” 

“ Do not worry, child,” he added, turning to 
Edna ; “ we will do all that can be done under the 
painful circumstances.” 

A few hours later Edna stood at her mother’s 
door. Silently she entered the hall and peeped 
into the sitting-room. Her mother was sitting at 
the sewing-machine, stitching up a silk basque 
which was, doubtless, to be worn by some village 
belle. 

In an arm-chair by the fire-place sat the aged 
grandmother. On her lap lay an open book, but 
she was not reading ; she had taken off her specta- 
cles and was gazing intently into the fire. Mem- 


264 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


ory was evidently drawing pictures of the “ long 
ago.” 

A movement upon Edna’s part, caused her 
mother to look up, and discover her there ; and she 
sprang up with a glad cry of welcome. The grand- 
mother, too, arose, trembling with surprise and 
pleasure. 

Presently Edna revealed her errand. Mrs. Slater 
sat for a time pale and silent ; finally, she said : 

“ I must go for the body and give it decent bur- 
ial. I promised before God and man to honor and 
obey him ; his own actions prevented me from ful- 
filling that vow in spirit, but his remains shall be 
duly honored.” 

Edna drew a purse from her pocket and laid it in 
her mother’s lap. 

Mrs. Slater’s face flushed painfully, and she 
said : 

“ I hate to take this money, for I already feel 
burdened with the favors I have received at the 
hands of Dr. Evert.” 

“ Do not hesitate to take it, Mother,” Edna re- 
plied, kissing her pale cheeks. “ I earned every 
cent of it ; ” adding, with a smile, “ this is money 
that I received for my ‘ brain wares.’ ” 

“ My blessed child ! ” said her mother, tearfully, 
“ it seems hard to take your earnings to bury him, 
when he was so unkind to you.” 

“ Think not of that,” said Edna, “ I am thankful 
to possess the means.” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


265 


And that was the only reference that either of 
them ever made to the past life of the man at whose 
hands they had both suffered so much. 

The next morning Homer met them at the depot, 
and went with them for the remains. He had been 
to the city the previous day and had identified the 
body, and engaged an undertaker to take charge 
of the funeral arrangements. 

On the face of the dead man a scowl of hate 
and pain rested, which was dreadful to see. He 
had been cut off in the height of his evil pas- 
sions, and even death, the end of all things, could 
not hide the impress of theft, and hate, and mur- 
der. 

Edna looked once upon the face of the dead, 
then drew back with a low, shuddering cry, and 
covered her face with her hands. 

Silently he was borne to the hearse, and si- 
lently they followed him to the country grave- 
yard. Dark clouds overhung the earth, and it 
was snowing fast when they entered the ceme- 
tery. 

Dr. Evert and wife,- and a few other friends, 
had met at the open grave and were awaiting 
them. 

After a few words of prayer, they silently, and 
without a tear of sorrow, lowered the coffin into 
Hie grave. 

They could not sing — 

“Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep” 


266 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


over this dead body, and Homer could not speak 
to them in eloquent sentences (as he had done 
over the grave of Mamie Howard), of hope shining 
triumphant and star-like over the lonely grave. 

Truly “the way of the transgressor is hard.” 

As the frozen clods were falling upon the cof- 
fin, Edna drew back a few paces and clasped in 
a loving embrace the cold, marble monument 
which marked her brother’s grave. After the 
other grave was heaped, Mrs. Slater also came 
and stood beside Archie’s grave. She had not 
seen the spot for years, and all the pent up 
shame, remorse and grief of years, broke from 
her lips in a low wail of agony, as she sank 
beside the grave, crying: 

“ Oh, Archie, my love, my murdered darling ! ” 

After her emotion was spent, Homer touched her 
arm, and said : 

“ Mrs. Slater, observe this rose bush ; there is no 
sign of life about it. It is apparently dead in the 
embrace of winter. But the genial sun will shed 
its beams upon it, and it will hear the voice of 
spring, and will blossom in renewed beauty. Just 
so the Sun of Righteousness will beam upon this 
grave, and your beloved child will hear the voice 
of the King of kings, calling him forth, all glorified 
and fair.” 

By and by they passed slowly out of the ceme- 
tery, pausing a moment to glance at the new.made 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


267 


grave. Already it was covered with flakes of 
snow. 

Kind nature was spreading a white mantle 
alike over the grave of saint and sinner. 


.268 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

AMONG THE FLOWERS. 

“ Give her the sun— sweet light, and duly 
To walk in shadow, nor chide her part ; 

Give her the rose, and truly, truly — 

To wear its thorn with a patient heart.” 

After the burial of Mr. Slater, Edna returned 
home with her mother, gladdening them with 
her companionship for two weeks. Hers was 
such a strong, cheery nature, so full of faith 
and hope, that her presence had much the same 
effect in her mother’s cottage, that a sunbeam has 
in a prison cell, or a pot of sweet, fragrant violets 
has in the room of an invalid. 

In her absence Mrs. Evert went to see Flossie, 
and their visits ended, they both returned home 
about the same time. 

The day after their return Dr. Evert invited some 
friends from the city to dine with them, and, as he 
believed with all his heart that no gathering could 
be complete without Homer Atwood, he had been 
urgently solicited to be present. 

Homer had replied that his mother was not well, 
and that unless her health improved, he would feel 
obliged to forego the pleasure of attending. 

The afternoon previous to that event, Mrs. Evert 
and Edna drove over to see Mrs. Atwood. They 
were admitted by a neat, blue-eyed, brown-haired 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


269 


girl, named Alice Ferrell, whose adoption into 
Mrs. Atwood’s household, in the capacity of ser- 
vant, had created much talk in the neighborhood a 
few years previous. 

The mother of Alice was a widow, financially 
poor, weak in intellect, and morally depraved ; 
and as the girl grew up people began to toss about 
her good name, passing it lightly from lip to lip. 

When Mrs. Atwood heard how the girl was situ- 
ated, she went to her, and by promise of large pay 
and light work, induced Alice to come to Atwood’s 
in the capacity of servant, and in the seclusion of 
her peaceful home, Mrs. Atwood gently and lov- 
ingly taught the young girl the way of Life, care- 
fully removing all obstructions from her way, that 
the path of well-doing should be made as pleasant 
as possible to her unaccustomed feet. 

By and by Mrs. Atwood was permitted to see the 
fruits of her labors, for Alice began to tread with 
joy the path of peace and holiness, and she almost 
worshiped the saintly, white-haired woman, who 
had plucked her as “ a brand from the burning.” 

When Mrs. Evert and Edna were admitted to 
Mrs. Atwood’s presence, they found her much bet- 
ter, and able to receive them in the drawing-room. 

“ I am trying very hard to get well,” she said, 
smilingly. “ I am very anxious Homer should ac- 
cept your invitation for this evening, and he is so 
foolish about leaving me when I am ill.” 

At this moment Homer came in. Beturnihg 


270 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


home from the village, he had recognized their 
sleigh in waiting, and hence came in with shin- 
ing eyes to greet his visitors. 

An hour was spent in pleasant conversation, 
and Edna could not help noting the reverent, lov- 
ing deference which Homer’s manner expressed for 
his mother. His cordial friendliness toward Mrs. 
Evert, and rather a mixture of all these feelings 
evinced toward herself. 

To her eyes he represented the highest type of 
manhood ; strong, cheery, and wise, yet loving and 
gentle ; and as a crowning virtue, he had conse- 
crated his wealth, and youth, and all the powers 
of his being, to the service of God and humanity. 

After a while Mrs. Atwood turned to Edna, say- 
ing : “ Yesterday I received from Chicago a box 
filled with flowering plants, which Esther had se- 
lected with great care. Would you like to see 
them.” 

Edna replied that she would be pleased to look 
at the flowers, and Mrs. Atwood begged they would 
excuse her inability to accompany them to the 
conservatory, as she was feeling too weak to do 
so, but Homer would show them with pleasure. 

Mrs. Evert declined to go, saying that she would 
see them some other time, for the present she 
preferred to remain and chat with her old friend. 

When Edna entered the conservatory she was 
filled with surprise and admiration, for it con- 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


271 


tained the largest and most carefully selected col- 
lection of plants that she had ever seen. 

Passionately fond of flowers, it was impossible 
for her to look calmly upon such a bewildering 
array of beauty and fragrance. At the end of the 
conservatory, over a cluster of orange trees, which 
were in full bloom, hung gilded cages, filled with 
singing birds of many climes, while two or three 
uncaged canaries flitted about at their own sweet 
will. 

As they entered the conservatory a parrot called 
loudly, 4 4 Who are you ! Who are you ! ” Homer 
laughingly rebuked its impertinence ; then it chat- 
tered on as aimlessly and flippantly as some socie- 
ty woman. 

Edna was was in an ecstasy of delight, and passed 
from flower to flower with glowing cheeks and 
beaming eyes. 

Homer smilingly read her expressive face, as he 
pointed out the characteristic beauty of each plant, 
many of which had been placed there many years 
before by his father. 

At last they came to a collection of pansies ; all 
sizes and hues of the flower were represented, and 
Edna paused beside them with a low exclamation 
of delight. 

“Oh, I think pansies are the sweetest flowers 
that grow,” she said, with a thrill of pleasure in 
her tones. 

“ I am very fond of them too,” he replied. “ If I 


272 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


should gather you a bouquet would you honor me 
by wearing it this evening ? ” 

He gathered a cluster of purple and gold-hearted 
pansies, and with deft fingers, artistically arranged 
with them some orange blossoms, saying, “ This is 
another favorite flower of mine ; they are so pure 
and fragrant.” 

Then he formed a green background of soft, 
feathery ferns, and was about to ofler the bouquet 
for her acceptance, but paused, saying — 

“ Ho you understand the language of flowers ? It 
was a favorite pastime with my sister to read the 
sentiment of a bouquet. 

u Let me see how this reads. Orange blossoms 
mean. Your purity equals your loveliness ; Pansy, 
Thoughts, and Fern, Sincerity. 

“My thoughts are that your purity equals your 
loneliness sincerely . No, that isn’t right. Your 
purity equals your loveliness , I think (think will 
do for thoughts,) sincerely. Pshaw ! that won’t do. 
However, please accept it, and pray believe that I 
sincerely think that your purity equals your love- 
liness; which I assure you is no small compli- 
i ment.” 

I Then smiling at her blushing face, he kindly 
changed the subject, telling her that he had been 
that afternoon to see Mr. Howard depart for Min- 
nesota, where he had a sister residing, with whom 
he expected to make his home. 

Then in a few eloquent terms — which came nat- 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


273 


urallyto him — Homer called before her mind a 
sorrowful picture of the aged, grief- stricken man, 
bidding adneu to his once happy, but now desolate 
home. 

Tears gathered in Edna’s eyes, and she said — 
“ Oh, I am so sorry for him ! My heart aches at 
his sorrow.” 

Homer replied, “ I deeply sympathize with him, 
but I am still more sorry for Frank Allen.” 

“0 no,” she said eagerly, “he will get over it 
by and by ; but her father will mourn for her all 
his life.” 

“ Is a heart’s true love an emotion so easy to get 
over /” he questioned meaningly. Then observing 
her blushing confusion, he continued — 

“ Her father will doubtless grieve for her all his 
life ; but undoubtedly his time on earth is short ; 
while Frank has the prospect of a long life before 
him, through which he will go always feeling at 
heart a sense of pain and loss.” 

“ Did you ever read Jean Ingelow’s beautiful 
lines which describe a man going through life, his 
heart empty of love ; and although light and beau- 
ty his life were “ thrilling,” he pathetically adds, 

u 1 But in the hollow of my heart, 

There ached a place that wanted filling.’ 

“ Then he goes on to describe how he went out 
unconsciously guided by fate to the girl whose love 

was to fill his empty heart ; while she, also obey- 
18 


274 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


ing a law of fate, was unconsciously awaiting him. 
Then he describes their meeting and exultantly 
adds, — 


“ 4 But now it is a year ago, 

But now possession crowns endeavor ; 

I took her in my heart, to grow, 

And fill the hollow place forever.’ ” 

Edna glanced once into the eyes which were 
beaming upon her so ardently. Then over her fair 
face the rose bloom quickly spread, and she stood 
there awed and mastered by the love she saw in 
his dark eyes. 

At that moment, greatly to her relief, she heard 
Mrs. Evert calling to her that they must immedi- 
ately return home, else they would be late for din- 
ner. And so bidding their friends a gay adieu, 
Mrs. Evert and Edna drove rapidly homeward, 
where, all unknown to them, a pleasant surprise 
awaited them. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


275 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

“ DIVIDED.” 

As we have said, a pleasant surprise was in store 
for Mrs. Evert and Edna. In their absence Earl 
Wliitney had arrived and was anxiously awaiting 
their return. With eager eyes he observed them 
coming up the drive, and when the sleigh stopped 
he went out to assist them to alight. 

Edna arose with a little cry of surprise and 
pleasure, and as Earl assisted her from the sleigh 
he could not resist the impulse to kiss her blush- 
ing face. 

“Why, Earl!” cried Mrs. Evert, laughing, “I had 
no idea that you were brave enough to commit so 
great a theft with such a watchful dragon as my- 
self present.” 

•“ My dragon-eyed Auntie has no terrors for me 
where this sweet face is concerned,” Earl smilingly 
retorted. 

After Mrs. Evert had given him her warm, char- 
acteristic greeting, and they were sitting by the 
parlor fire, she said, — “ How is it, Earl, that you 
have come so unexpectedly to visit us ? ” 

He replied, “ I had no notion of being here at 
the present time until a few hours previous to my 
departure. But, Auntie, I staid away just as long 
as I could. Like Adam, I have found that it is not 


276 


EDNA CAKLISLE; 


good for man to be alone ; and my errand here is 1 
to plead with my Eve to come and cheer me in my 
loneliness.” 

“ In that case,” said Mrs. Evert, as she arose to 
leave the room, “ I would advise you to postpone 
making your petition until a more convenient 
season ; for Edna and I must immediately go and 
dress for dinner, as we are expecting guests to ar- 
rive in a few minutes.” 

Edna lingered a moment after Mrs. Evert had 
left the room, and said, 

“ Why is it you wish to hasten our marriage,, 
Earl?” * 

He replied, “I desire it first of all because I love 
you, and that being the case it is not unnatural, 
I believe, for me to wish for your company ; and 
secondly (averting his face), I wish it because I 
find it impossible to overcome my intemperate 
habits ; but I feel sure that if we were married and 
I had the constant shield of your presence, I could 
overcome this evil habit.” 

She looked sadly at him, saying : “ Many a 

man before you has said and thought that, and yet 
when the woman that loved him believed his words 
and the vision that hope painted for her fond eyes, 
she had only to find at length that she was power- 
less to save him. That her part was to stand by 
with tearful eyes and bleeding heart, and see the 
wreck of her idol gradually sink into a drunk- 
ard’s grave. 0, I know too well the suffering 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


277 


this evil habit entails; have I not already suf- 
fered enough from its consequences ? 

“ Don’t you see, Earl, the task may be made 
comparatively easy ? Only vow that you will never 
touch another glass of anything which intoxicates, 
then the battle will be between you and one 
glass ; surely you are man enough to come off 
conqueror in a case like that.” 

“ I have often thought of that,” he replied; but 
when my friends beg me to drink with them” — » 

“ Please don’t call them friends,” she exclaimed. 

“ Well, when my acquaintances ” — he began, but 
she interposed — 

“ Enemies is the more appropriate term. If a 
man tries to persuade you to do that which will 
disgrace your manhood and will eventually result 
in shutting out all your life’s fair aims, is not 
that man your enemy?” 

“ It would appear so,” Earl replied. 

“ Then what you were about to say was virtual- 
ly this. 

“ ‘ When my enemies ask me to drink with them 
I cannot refuse, although I am aware that my do- 
ing so will cause the hearts that love me to bleed.’ 
Is not that it ?” 

Then she raised her tearful, pleading eyes to his 
saying, — “ Surely, Earl, if you love me you can over- 
come this evil habit.” 

“ Do you doubt my love ? ” he inquired. 

I doubt your desire to retain my love. Can’t 


278 


EDNA CAKLISLE ; 


you see, Earl, that you are slowly, surely, killing- 
my love for you ?” Then with her face quivering; 
with emotion, she turned and left the room. 

She had gone only a few steps up the stairway,, 
when Earl, following her into the hall, called, 

“ Edna l” 

“ At the sound of her name she paused, and he* 
came around to the side of the stairway, so that 
his head was almost on a level with her own. 
Looking up at her with great, troubled eyes ha 
said, — 

“ Edna, do you mean I should infer that you have 
ceased to love me ?” 

“ No,” she said in a tremulous voice, as she 
leaned over the balustrade and passed her hand 
lightly over his bright waves of hair. “ No, I 
said you were slowly, surely killing my love for 
you. But rest assured that you will always be 
very dear to me, even though we may never 
marry.” Then she went on and left him standing 
there sad and alone. 

When Edna came down again their guests had 
all assembled, and Homer’s eyes lighted up with 
pleasure when he saw that she wore his flowers. 

The occasion was one of unbroken pleasure to 
all present ; and toward the close of the even- 
ing Dr. Evert, who was quite proud of the beauty 
and intellect of his adopted child, begged Edna 
to read them one of her poems. 

The others seconded his request, but she smil- 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


279 


ingly replied that she really could not have the 
cruelty to inflict one of her poems upon them ; in- 
stead she would recite them one, written by a poet, 
who as a word painter, she could never hope to 
equal. 

Then she arose, and with one white hand rest- 
ing lightly upon the crimson back of her chair, 
she repeated those beautiful lines called “Di- 
vided.” 

Glancing at Earl with a shy, sweet smile, she re- 
peated the lines which so vividly describe two 
lovers going forth together, while love and joy fill 
their hearts, beauty surrounds them, and life seems 
blithe and fair. And then with a grave, sweet, 
smile resting upon her lips she said — 

“ Light was our talk as of faery bells— 

Faery wedding-bells, faintly rung to us 
Down in their fortunate parallels.” 

Earl had never heard tho poem before, but 
knowing Edna’s voice so well, he could detect in it 
a ring of suppressed emotion ; and he leaned 
eagerly forward to learn the sequel. 

Her sweet voice goes on thrilling them with its 
music, as she describes the lovers wandering on, 
hand in hand, through the gay, bright world with 
songs of joy on their lips, until they come to that 
almost undefinable, imperceptible something, un- 
der the similitude of a tiny stream, which is to 
eventually divide them. 


280 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


u ‘ Sing on ! we sing in the glorious weather 
’Till one steps over the tiny strand, 

So narrow, in sooth, that still together 
On either brink we go hand in hand.’ ” 

Then the stream grows wider, and they are 
forced to unclasp their hands, and they wander 
sadly on with their — “ Songs all done.” 

Then her heart is pierced with sorrow as she 
perceives that the stream grows wider and wider, 
and she pleads with him to come hack to her, — 
“For the wavelets swell.” But he replies that he 
may not come, 

“ ‘ And the voice beside her 

Faintly reacheth, though heeded well.’ ” 

“ ‘ Then cries of pain, and arms outstretching— 

The beck grows wider and swift and deep ; 

Passionate words as of one beseeching— 

The loud beck drowns them ; we walk and weep.’ ” 

Earl knew now, by the feeling that Edna threw 
into the recitation, that she felt it to be a faithful 
picture of their life ; and he leaned his face upon 
his hand with a voiceless sob. 

Still her sweet voice, full of inexpressible sad- 
ness, goes on, telling how the aspect of the world 
had changed to them, while the stream grows 
wider and wider, and swifter and swifter, until it 
becomes a great broad river, and the beloved form 
is so far away that it seems “Only a speck on 
the farther side,” which she watches with tearful 
eyes and quivering lips. 


OK, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 281 

Throwing a world of agony into her tones, Edna 
^exclaimed — 

“ 4 Farther, farther— I see it— know it— 

My eyes brim over, it melts away ; 

Only my heart to my heart will show it 
As I walk desolate day by day.’ ” 

Then pausing a moment as if to control her 
•emotion, she added in a voice whose pathetic 
sorrow drew tears to her listeners’ eyes, 

“ ‘ And yet I know past all doubting, truly— 

And knowledge greater than grief can dim— 

I know, as he loved, he will love me duly— 

Yes, better— e’en better than I love him. 

“ 4 And as I walk by that vast calm river. 

The awful river so dread to see, 

I say, Thy breadth and thy depth forever, 

Are bridged by his thoughts that cross to me.’ ” 

There was silence through the rooms for a 
moment after Edna finished the poem. Then, 
while the others were warmly praising the poem 
and her elocutionary powers, Earl arose and 
hastily left the room. 

She saw him no more that evening until after 
their guests had departed, and she was about to 
leave the drawing-room to retire to her own room. 
He came in with haggard face, and laying one 
hand heavily on her shoulder, said, — 

“Were you thinking of us — of me — when you 
recited that poem ? ” 

“ Yes,” she faltered. 


282 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“Edna!” lie exclaimed, excitedly, “I cannot r 
will not give you up.” 

“Then recross the stream , Earl,” she eagerly 
replied. “ Cross while you may ; though joined in 
heart, we are divided now by a barrier as dark 
and portentous as that swiftly flowing stream.” 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


283 - 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

“charity suffereth long and is kind.” 

“ Thick waters show no images of things ; 

Friends are each other’s mirrors and should be 
Clearer than the crystal, or the mountain springs, 

And free from clouds, design, or flattery, 

For vulgar souls no part of friendship share ; 

Poets and friends are born to what they are.” 

Edna was deaf to all of Earl’s pleas for an early 
marriage. 

“Xo, Earl,” she said, “I cannot many you 
under the present circumstances. You have 
placed a stain upon your fair name that I cannot 
overlook. Blot that out, retrieve your lost ground, 
and become the noble creature that your God 
meant you to be when he endowed you with such 
goodly qualities of head and heart; then I will 
gladly and lovingly give you my hand in mar- 
riage, and I will be to you a true and loving wife 
all the days of my life. 

“We are told in the Word of God that man is 
the head of the woman, even as Christ is the head 
of the church. The life you are at present leading 
fills me with shame when I think on it. And do 
you think that I, who am earnestly striving to 
live a pure and righteous life, — if I married you 
now, could I look up to you with that love and 


284 EDNA CARLISLE ; 

reverence with which the church must regard 
Christ, its head ? ” 

“But, Edna! ” Earl exclaimed, shame and anger 
contending in his heart, “am I not to be taken 
into account ? Are you not willing to help me to 
conquer this evil habit and regain my former 
honorable position ? ” 

“ I will gladly do aught in my power to assist 
you,” she replied. 

“ Then become my wife,” he said, eagerly. 
“ Constant companionship with your pure nature 
will lead me up to a higher plane of existence; 
and the shield of your love will protect me from 
evil influences.” 

She looked at him, smiling tearfully. “ I know 
you believe that,” she said. “But that is the 
sand-bar upon which so many lives have been 
wrecked. If I cannot save you now, Earl, I could 
not if we were married. My love should be your 
shield now, just as truly as if we were married. 
And we can easily test the influence of my pres- 
ence. Let some one fill your place in the bank 
this summer, and do you remain here. In our 
pure country life you will be free from the tempta- 
tions that would surround you in the city. And if 
* by faithful continuance in well doing 5 you prove 
that my companionship has the influence which 
you ascribe to it — then ‘when the autumn tinges 
the greenwood, turning all its leaves to gold,’ I 
will lay my hand in yours and vow before God 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 285 

and man to love, honor, and obey you all the days 
of my life.” 

And though disappointed, Earl was compelled 
to accept her decision. 

So he remained at Dr. Evert’s, and honestly 
tried to lead a better, purer life. 

After two months of his probation had worn 
away, he said to her one evening : — 

“ Edna, am I not proving to you that I can with- 
stand temptation ? ” 

She smiled sadly as she replied : — 

“You are proving that you can do without the 
use of intoxicants. But will you be able to resist 
temptation when solicited to drink by your — what 
shall we call them — friends ? or enemies ? ” 

“ Enemies,” he smilingly replied ; “ I accept 
your definition ; but you are much mistaken if you 
think I have no temptation here. A few days ago 
when I was over at Rochester I was sorely tried ; 
as I passed a saloon I heard the clinking of 
glasses, and looking around I beheld a man turn- 
ing a glass of liquor to his lips. Immediately a 
very demon of evil thirst possessed me, and I felt 
that I would give the whole world for a drink, if 
that were the price to be paid ; and you will never 
know how desperately I struggled with the evil 
passion. I came off conqueror ; but only the mem- 
ory of your sweet face and pure life kept me from 
giving up the combat.” 

Laying her hand upon his arm, Edna said, in 


286 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


sweet, trembling tones : “I thank yon, Earl. Your 
words fill my heart with a gladness to which it has 
long been a stranger.” 

“ My good angel,” Earl murmured, as he kissed 
the dimpled hand resting upon his arm, “if you 
cannot lead me into a higher life, I am lost indeed. 
If you cannot save me from myself, I should go 
down though ten thousand angels contended for 
me.” 

Homer had believed that the engagement be- 
tween Earl and Edna had been broken off ; but 
when Earl came upon his present visit, and he and 
Edna were so often seen in each other’s company, 
Homer decided that he had been mistaken ; but he 
often wondered that she no longer wore her be- 
trothal ring. 

Every Sunday they occupied the same pew in 
church. Edna’s fair face always expressed a rev- 
erent, intelligent interest in the sermon, and Earl’s 
expression seemed to say, “ Almost thou persuad- 
est me to be a Christian ! but I can’t do it. The 
sacrifice is too great.” 

Once while preaching, Homer observed this ex- 
pression upon Earl’s face, and striving to meet his 
friend’s thoughts, said : 

“The whole cross is more easily carried than 
half. It is the man who tries to make the best of 
both worlds who makes nothing of either. And he 
who seeks to serve two masters, misses the bene- 
diction of both. But he who has taken his stand ; 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


287 


wlio has drawn a boundary line, sharp and deep, 
about his religious life ; who has marked off all 
beyond as forever forbidden ground to him, finds 
the yoke easy and the burden light.” 

Late one raw, chilly day, toward the last of 
April, as Homer was returning from making some 
calls, his way lay through the village, and as 
he was driving along in the dusk of the evening, 
he saw a group of boys gathered on the street 
corner, laughing and talking loudly. 

Observing them more intently, he discovered 
that the object of their merriment was a young 
man, evidently intoxicated, who had just passed 
by. A second glance told Homer that he who 
was reeling along the street, laughing and talking 
to himself in gay good humor, was no other than 
Earl Whitney. The revelation came like a shock. 
Earl had apparently just left the saloon and 
started home ; but his way lay through the most 
densely populated portion of the town, and ere to- 
morrow the whole country-side would hear of his 
disgrace. 

Thinking thus, Homer began trying to devise 
some plan to hinder such results, for he felt that in 
so doing he would not only be doing the young 
man a kindness, but he would spare the house- 
hold of Dr. Evert the shame and sorrow that 
Earl’s appearance there, in his present condition, 
would cause. 

Then the temptation came to Homer, “ Let him 


288 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


go on, when Edna sees him in his present de- 
graded condition, surely she will cease to love 
him.” But he cast the suggestion from him as 
utterly unworthy, and prayed for a double por- 
tion of that “ charity which suffereth long and 
is kind.” 

Driving rapidly he soon overtook Earl, whose 
reeling steps were causing him to make slow 
progress. After much persuasion Homer finally 
induced Earl to get into the buggy, and then 
drove rapidly toward his own home. 

It was getting dark when they reached there, 
and, as it fortunately occurred, Homer got his 
charge out of the buggy and up stairs into a room 
adjoining his own, unobserved by any one. 

With patient kindness he staid in the room, 
till Earl grew sleepy, then assisted him to bed, 
where he soon slumbered heavily. 

He believed this was Earl’s first transgression, 
and hoped to be able to so present the evils of 
intemperance to the young man when he awoke, 
that he would be induced to abstain from the use 
of intoxicants in the future. 

j Before leaving the room Homer stood and gazed 
long and intently at the sleeper; and as he sur- 
veyed the manly, graceful form, the face of un- 
common beauty, and remembered that Earl pos- 
sessed a gentle, loving disposition, and was in 
all respects eminently qualified to win the love of 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


289 


the human heart, Homer sighed to himself, “ I do 
not wonder that Edna loves him.” 

Then the master passion of his life — the desire 
to win souls for the garner of immortality — awoke, 
and he thought of Earl as a wanderer from the 
Father’s house, feeding on the husks of the world, 
while the great storehouse of God is filled with 
blessings, and to spare. 

Homer lay awake for hours that night, harassed 
by troubled thoughts. Earl was one of his earliest 
friends. How vividly he remembered the first time 
they had met. Homer at that time was about 
eight years old ; it was the year Dr. Evert married 
and brought his bride to their present home. Dur- 
ing the summer Mrs. Whitney came to visit them, 
and brought with her Earl, who was then a chubby, 
bright-eyed, dimple-cheeked boy of four years, 
whose long, golden curls soon became the admira- 
tion of Homer’s boyish heart. And at that early 
age had been established the relations which they 
had ever since sustained towards each other. 

Homer always regarded Earl with an indulgent 
fondness, as toward one tq whom it was a delight 
to give pleasure ; and to Earl, Homer had always 
seemed a being to be regarded with reverent ad- 
miration. Year by year these feelings increased 
until the two reached manhood. Then there was 
scarcely a perceptible break in their intercourse, 
although each of them had poured out the riches 

19 


290 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


of his heart at the feet of the same girl. Earl had 
never had other than a slight suspicion that Homer 
loved Edna, and feeling so sure that he possessed 
her love himself, he had scarcely given the subject 
a moment’s thought. 

While to Homer the knowledge that Earl 
was his rival, had come at the time that he learned 
Edna’s love was never to be his ; and his nature 
was too truly noble to harbor ill-will toward his 
friend for gaining the love which would have shed 
sunshine in his own life, if he had been the favored 
suitor. 

And now, as a watchman upon the hills of Zion, 
he saw his old friend treading a dark and danger- 
ous path ; and his soul was filled with unrest, and 
he longed to rescue — to save. 

Toward morning Homer fell asleep and dreamed 
that he saw Earl gradually slipping down into a 
fathomless abyss, frantically calling upon him for 
rescue. Then the form changed, and it was Edna 
who was calling pitifully to him for help. The 
dream was so vivid that he awoke frightened and 
trembling, and was thankful to find that it was in- 
deed a dream. 

It was late that morning ere Earl awoke. Homer 
explained what had occurred, and pleaded kindly 
and eloquently with Earl to refrain from the use 
of that which would dishonor his manhood and 
blight his life’s fair promise. 

Earl listened to all of his friend’s entreaties with 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


291 


silent, gloomy face ; only once liad lie spoken, that 
was when he first learned what he had done, and 
in anguish of soul he cried out : “ Oh, my God ! I 
am lost, lost ! ” 

And that white, despairing look never left his face 
all day, although Homer tried to encourage, and 
infuse some of his own hopeful spirit into that of 
Ms friend. 

Finally Earl said : “It is no use. I will make 
no more vows only to break them. Oh, that I had 
never taken the first glass ! To retrieve my lost 
ground now, is like attempting to walk up hill 
with ten thousand demons trying to pull me 
Iback.” 

He listened patiently to Homer’s exhortations 
and entreaties, hut the despairing anguish reflected 
in his pale face, went to the young preacher’s 
heart, and drew tears to his eyes, that did not 
shame his manhood. 

After breakfast (which the young men took 
alone), Homer, thinking to relieve Earl’s burdened 
mind, invited him out to see the live stock. 

It had been a custom of Homer’s father never to 
keep any but animals and fowls of the best blood, 
and it was a custom that Homer had faithfully 
carried out after his father’s death. 

When the young men entered the barnyard, the 
horses came with gentle neighs to greet their mas- 
ter, the fowls flocked around him, the doves left 
their cots to meet him, and one settled upon his 


292 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


shoulder, cooing softly and patting him with ten- 
der crimson feet. Bill, the coachman, stood in the 
"barn-door looking out upon the scene with a broad, 
good-natured smile. 

“ That is the way it always is,” he said to Earl.. 
“He never comes into the barnyard but every 
blessed creature on the place follows him around, 
and talks to him in its own language as hard as 
ever it can.” 

Homer was scattering some seed to his fowls 
now he looked up, smiling brightly. “ That is be- 
bause they recognize the hand that feeds them. It 
is only man, ungrateful man, who fails to do hom- 
age to the source from whence he receives his 
blessings.” 

Bill retreated into the stable, smilingly shaking 
his head, as though he would say, “ That is the 
way he always turns the tables on me.” 

After luncheon Earl bade his kind friend good- 
bye, and with gloomy brow and sad forebodings at 
heart, returned to Evert Place. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


293 


CHAPTER XXX. 

DARK WATERS. 

“ And thy love hath power upon me, 

Like a dream upon a brain ; 

For the loveliness which won me, 

With the love too doth remain; 

And my life it beautifieth, 

Though love be but a shade ; 

Known of only ere it dieth, 

By the darkness it hath made.” 

Gossip had not been silent during Earl’s ab- 
sence, but had carried the news of his transgres- 
sion to Dr. Evert’s household, and spread sorrow 
and gloom over the hearts of all. As the day be- 
gan to wear away without Earl’s return, Edna 
grew nervously anxious. 

In great disquietude she paced to and fro upon 
the veranda, gazing with wistful, troubled eyes in 
the direction whence he should come. 

At last she descried him coming slowly down 
the road, and, woman like, now that she saw that 
the beloved one was safe, and her anxiety thus 
relieved, she grew faint, and was fain to clasp a 
pillar for support, and tears, which she vainly 
struggled to suppress, welled to her eyes and trem- 
bled on her jetty lashes. 

As Earl approached her face was turned from 
him (indifferently he thought), and his heart 


294 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


throbbed more heavily, for he believed that she* 
had heard all and meant to renounce him. 

Sadly he gazed at her. Never before had she 
seemed so lovely to him. Her beautiful face 
seemed so pure, so spiritual — her dark blue dress 
exquisitely fitted her perfect form, and in pleasing 
contrast to her black hair and fair complexion, a 
soft, scarlet shawl was cast about her shoulders, 
and a scarlet ribbon nestled in her glossy tresses. 

As Earl stepped upon the veranda she turned to- 
ward him, smiling tearfully, and held out to him 
one fair, dimpled hand. 

Earl clasped it almost convulsively, then reading 
her expressive face a moment, he said, sadly : 

“ Edna, you have heard all ? ” 

She inclined her head for answer, being unable 
to control her voice. 

He stood there a minute holding her hand and 
gazing into the distance with a look of unutterable 
misery. Finally he said, huskily ; 

“ Edna, I am so shamed, so crushed, so broken 
down, I scarcely care to live. Why should I live ? 
I shall only go on drawing tears of sorrow from 
your dear eyes, grieving my friends, and at last 
perhaps sink into a drunkard’s grave. No, it were 
better that I die now.” 

“ Oh, Earl,” she pleaded, “ do not give up the 
battle. Say that by God’s grace you will conquer 
this evil habit. Life has much in store for you. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


295 


Try again, Earl, I will not forsake you ; let my 
love be your shield to save you from yourself.” 

“ My sweet, sweet saint,” he murmured, softly, 
then ended with a sigh. “ I know I have every in- 
ducement to overcome this evil, and yet my soul is 
filled with despair.” 

That evening, after the lamps were lighted, Edna 
and Earl were left alone in the drawing-room, and 
seeing that he was silent and oppressed by sad 
thoughts, she — with the instinct of a true woman 
that perceives the moods of the loved one and acts 
accordingly, striving to comfort and cheer, though 
her own heart were breaking — went to the piano 
and played some soft, sweet melodies, while Earl 
lay upon the couch, drinking in the music which 
unconsciously soothed him, yet ever contrasting in 
his mind his past and present self. 

After she had grown weary and had ceased 
playing, he called her softly by name. 

She came and stood beside him, sweetly submis- 
sive. 

“ Edna,” he began, “ all day my mind has been 
harassed by one thought. You told me once that 
when you ceased to respect me you would cease to 
love me. Tell me, darling, have I lost your love ? ” 

“Not entirely, Earl,” she answered, kindly and 
sadly. 

“You do not love me as you once did?” he in- 
quired, looking into her face with great, despairing 
eyes. 


296 


EDNA CARLISLE! 


“ Eo, Earl,” slie replied, in low, tremulous tones. 
“ I should not be true to you or true to myself if I 
deceived you in this matter. I do not love you as 
I did a few months ago. Then I admired your 
noble traits of character, and I revered and loved 
you with my whole heart. Now you seem to me to 
be weak, and your character has a stain upon it. 
You have fallen from the high position which you 
occupied in my estimation, and I can no longer 
look up to and revere you ; I can only cling fondly 
to you, and long to rescue and save you.” 

He sat quite silent for a moment, with a world of 
misery in his eyes. Then taking her hand and 
kissing it reverently, he said, in low, tremulous 
tones : 

“ Edna, if I should go down you will never think 
it was because I did not love you ? ” 

Then as she tearfully shook her head, he went 
on, his tones tremulous with emotions of love and 
sorrow : 

“ Darling ! darling! I have loved you, do love 
you better than aught else in earth or heaven. I 
would count my life as naught if you were in dan- 
ger. And yet, loving you as I do, I grieve you 
continually, and draw tears from your dear eyes, 
when I would far rather the pearly drops had been 
distilled from my heart’s blood.” 

Utterly unmanned by grief, his form was shaken 
with emotion. Edna stooped and pressed her red 
lips to the waves of golden hair which covered his 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


297 


handsome head, then clasping her hands in a de- 
sparing gesture, she exclaimed : 

“ How long ! oh Lord, how long ! ere this curse is 
swept from our land ? ” 


298 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

“this yoke of mine that reaches not to 

YOU.” 

“It is not that I love you less 

Than when before your feet I lay ; 

But to prevent the sad increase 
Of hopeless love, I go away.” 

Early in the month of May, Homer received a 
letter from William Thoresby, an old college friend 
who was pastor of a church in New Orleans, stat- 
ing that his health was failing, as was also that of 
his wife, and the warm spring weather had such a 
deleterious effect upon their health, that they felt 
that to preserve their lives they must go farther 
north before the hot summer months came on. Yet 
he disliked to do so, for his charge was a mission 
church, consisting of much rough material, and 
was very difficult to care for, and he greatly feared 
the result if some careless pastor should come and 
fill his place. The letter was full of the one sub- 
ject which was burdening the young minister’s 
mind, and he poured out his trouble to Homer, 
much as he had been wont to do when they were 
room-mates at college. 

After carefully considering the subject and con- 
sulting with his mother, Homer proposed to his- 
friend an exchange of places for a few months. 

The proposition was gladly accepted, and about 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


299 


the middle of May Homer preached his farewell 
sermon to his little flock, who were sorely grieved 
to part from him. 

The evening preceding his departure all of his 
friends were invited to his home to a sort of fare- 
well social, and few indeed were they who did not 
accept the invitation. When the time arrived the 
grand old house seemed to be filled to overflowing 
with those who had come to see their young pastor 
for the last time for many months, and who could 
tell, perhaps it would be forever. 

He was so beloved by them all, and had grown 
so into their hearts, entering so fully into their joys 
and sorrows, that they felt it indeed hard to give 
him up and see his place filled by a stranger. Re- 
freshments were served, and the occasion was en- 
livened by music and song, and had it not been for 
the rending of tender ties it would have been a 
happy evening to all present. 

Homer passed among his friends with a sad, 
sweet smile upon his face, and some kind words 
upon his lips for each — words cherished in thfr 
heart of the recipient to be remembered afterward 
with tears — yet to himself he seemed to see but 
the fair, sweet face of her who would always be 
shrined in his heart as his first and only love. 

A pensive sadness brooded on Edna’s face all 
evening, and as it waxed late Homer saw her slip 
quietly through a low, open window, that looked 


.300 


EDNA CARLISLE : 


out upon the lawn. In a moment he followed her, 
desiring to bid her good-bye alone. 

The full moon was flooding the world with light ; 
the balmy air was laden with the fragrance of 
blossoming trees and flowers, and through the 
shrubbery he saw the flutter of her white dress. 
She was standing somewhat remote from other 
loiterers upon the lawn, and in a moment he was 
beside her, saying : 

“ Pardon me for following you, but it is natu- 
ral, I believe, that I should have an especial good- 
bye for you.” 

She turned to him a wistful, pleading face. “ 0, 
why do you go away ? I would not have believed 
that you could be so unkind.” 

Promenading in the moonlight, with her hand 
resting lightly upon his arm, he told her of the 
points which had influenced him most in his de- 
cision. First, the benefit to the health of his old 
friend, which he hoped would be the result of the 
change ; and as New Orleans was a portion of 
country over which yellow fever often swept, car- 
rying off thousands in its destructive march, it 
seemed best that he, who was unmarried and pos- 
sessed few kindred ties, should stand in the front 
ranks of the battle for the Lord of hosts. 

He felt her hand tremble upon his arm, and as 
they were just passing a seat near the fountain, 
she paused, sighing, “Let me stop here and rest.” 

Sad for this their parting, she sat there, scarcely 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


301 


daring to raise her soft, dewy eyes to liis face ; yet 
the sweet, pensive voice, with its regretful pauses, 
seemed to mourn him an adieu, as he stood look- 
ing for perhaps the last time upon the beloved 
face, which the moonlight glorified and lent a 
beauty that scarcely seemed to be of earth. 

Presently Homer spoke, and his voice was trem- 
ulous with deep emotion : 

“ I had not thought how hard it would be to part 
from all who are near and dear ; but while absent 
from here I will ever be with you in thought. I 
wish you to remember that my love for you can 
know no change, and if any trouble should come 
to you (which God forbid), or there be any service 
which I can render, you will call upon me, will 
you not ? ” 

For reply she laid one trembling hand in his. 

Her downcast lashes, upon which glistening tear- 
drops hung, were kissing her fair cheeks, and look- 
ing upon her thus, he yearned to take the white- 
robed maiden to his heart and kiss away her 
tears. 

“ Edna, Miss Carlisle,” he said, “ once you gave 
me a rose ; that was when my heart was beating 
high with the hope that your love was to bless my 
life. There is another rose in your hair now, 
would you give it me to rest against my heart, now 
that I am going away, leaving behind me all of the 
sweetness and sunshine of my life ? ” 

She hesitated a moment, then began with tremb- 


302 


EDNA CARLISLE I 


ling fingers to unfasten the rose, but the stem had 
caught in her silky tresses, so with gentle touch 
Homer released it, inly murmuring a blessing over 
the dear head. Then bestowing upon the rose the 
kiss he dared not give her, he repeated, in low, 
melodious tones, that went to her heart : 

“‘I can be patient, faithful, and most fond 
To unacknowledged love ; I can be true 
To this sweet thralldom, this unequal bond, 

This yoke of mine that reaches not to you.’” 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


303 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

FARE THEE WELL. 

u Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest ; 

Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest ; 

Thine be ilka joy and treasure, 

Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure! 

Ae fond kiss and then we sever, 

Ae farewell, alas ! forever ! ” 

With the coming of June roses Flossie returned 
from school, and a few days later Ivy Whitney 
came from Chicago to spend the summer. For 
several weeks Earl had not once succumbed to the 
temptations of the wine-cup, and Edna grew more 
hopeful. 

He had not wanted for gentle admonitions from 
Mrs. Evert, or good advice from the doctor ; and 
when Flossie heard of his transgressions she 
stormed at him in a way that amused quite as 
much as it annoyed him. Then because he 
laughed at her spirited remonstrance, she abruptly 
left him, declaring, as a parting shot, that it made 
her angry to think that any one who put such a 
vile drink to his lips would ever dare to think of 
kissing her Violet. 

But Ivy, like the vine for which she had been 
named, clung all the more fondly to her brother, 
now that he seemed to be falling away from former 
nobleness. 


304 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Ivy had grown fairer and gentler as she ap- 
proached womanhood, and she looked so lovely in 
her snowy muslins and blue ribbons, that Edna 
laughingly told her that she was the fair counter- 
part of Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat. 

When Edna had made some friendly inquiries 
concerning Mr. Ross, Ivy had blushingly acknowl- 
edged that she and Ross were betrothed, and she 
was only waiting, in obedience to her mother’s 
command, until a few more years should be added 
to her life, ere she took upon herself the sacred 
name of wife. 

One beautiful morning, about the first of June, 
Dr. Evert was going to the city, and Earl decided 
to go also. The three girls stood upon the veranda 
watching their departure and smilingly waving 
them adieus. It was expected that Dr. Evert and 
Earl would return in a few hours, but the hours 
glided swiftly by and still they did not come. 

Late in the afternoon Flossie and Ivy went out 
for a ride. Mrs. Evert was in the library whiling 
away the time by reading the work of some favor- 
ite author. Near where she sat was an alcove,, 
j separated from the library by curtains ; this was a 
/favorite spot with Edna, and she was seated in 
it now, busily preparing the manuscript for a 
volume of poems which it was her intention to 
have published. 

Being thus occupied, they were not aware of 
Dr. Evert’s return until he came into the library. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


305 


Looking up when he entered, Mrs. Evert was 
startled by the expression of his face, and she 
exclaimed : 

“What is the matter, Wilfred?” 

“ Earl has been hurt,” he replied, “ and I am so 
humiliated and ashamed, I don’t know what to 
do.” 

“Hurt!” Mrs. Evert exclaimed. “How was he 
hurt ? ” 

“Shot! and in a saloon at that,” he answered, 
with a commingling of shame and anger in his 
voice. 

At that, with a low cry, Edna drew back the 
curtains and stood before them, pale and trembling 
violently. 

“ My child,” Dr. Evert began, “ I was not aware 
that you were there, or I — ” 

But she interposed. “ Tell me if he is seriously 
hurt, and how it happened.” 

He replied: “Earl is not fatally injured. He 
will recover in a few weeks, I think. After we 
reached the city I had some business to attend to,, 
and he walked away with an acquaintance whom 
he had met. In a short time there was a commo- 
tion raised, and I learned that there had been a 
light in a saloon near by, between two men, over a 
game of cards. Hastening to the scene of trouble, 
to my great surprise I found the injured man to be 

Earl, who, although he had not taken part in (rhe 
20 


306 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


fray, received a stray bullet in his shoulder while 
trying to separate the combatants. 

“We took him to a hotel and probed for the 
bullet, finally succeeding in obtaining it. He suf- 
fered very much and will be sick for many weeks, 
but I do not doubt that he will eventually re- 
cover.” 

“Did the probing for the bullet seem very pain- 
ful to him ? ” Mrs. Evert inquired. 

“ Yes*,” the doctor replied, “ but he did not feel 
it as much as might have been expected, for he 
had been drinking very freely before he was hurt, 
and at the time was very much under the in- 
fluence of intoxicants.” 

Edna listened to Dr. Evert’s words with bowed 
head and pale cheeks. She seemed crushed be- 
neath the weight of shame and humiliation, and 
her love that before had grown weak, was now 
wounded unto death, and painfully bleeding its 
life away. 

Only a few hours before Earl had said to her: 
“Like Jacob I serve for a wife, but I trust that 
.mine will not be a seven years’ service.” 

And she had answered: “Do you call it a ser- 
vice? I only ask you to prove that you are a 
free man.” 

Then Earl gravely replied : “ Since you have 
not renounced me, it proves that you still have 
faith in me, and that has strengthened my reso- 
lutions until I feel that I am stronger than I was 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


307 


"before, and I promise you that 1 will never again 
raise to my lips anything which intoxicates.” 

Presently Ivy and Flossie returned, and upon 
Ibeing told what had occurred, Ivy desired to go 
immediately to Earl, and Mrs. Evert also expressed 
a like desire. 

Approaching Edna, Mrs. Evert laid her hand 
upon the bowed head of the young girl with a 
gentle pitying gesture, and inquired if she would 
like to accompany them. 

“No, Auntie,” Edna replied, “not unless he be- 
comes dangerously ill and wishes to see me ; then I 
"will go.” 

After hesitating a moment, Mrs. Evert said : “ My 
dear child, I really believe that you must give 
Earl up. I am sorry to say this, for the misguided 
boy is very dear to me ; but I cannot bear to see 
him weakly making shipwreck of your life as well 
as his own.” Then tenderly kissing the girl’s pale 
cheeks, Mrs. Evert went away to minister to Earl. 

All evening Edna sat pale and silent, refusing to 
eat, and making only brief replies to all of Flos- 
sie’s loving inquiries. 

Flossie herself went quietly about the house, 
now crying softly and then angrily dashing the 
tears away and peering curiously into the library. 
Finally she approached Edna, and said : “ Violet, 
you wouldn’t commit suicide, would you ? ” 

Edna smiled faintly. “ Certainly not. Why do 
you ask, dear ? ” 


308 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Flossie replied, a little shame-facedly, “ Because 
you looked so white and — and — awful. I was 
afraid.” 

“Then dismiss your fears,” Edna replied. “I 
am only fighting it out.” 

And she did fight it out, though the battle was 
a sore one ; but ere she laid her head upon her 
pillow the old love was dead. 

Ivy staid constantly with Earl, and Mrs. Evert 
went daily to see him, frequently accompanied by 
Flossie ; but although he watched eagerly for her 
coming, Edna never went. His heart foreboded 
the worst from this, yet he hoped against hope ; 
and one day when Mrs. Evert was leaving him to 
return home, he said sadly, 

“ Aunt Nellie, please tell Edna to come and see 
me, or send me some token that she remembers 
that I am still alive.” 

When Mrs. Evert came again she laid a rose 
in his hand, saying ; 

“ Edna bade me give you this, and tell you that 
it was plucked from the same bush that bore the 
rose upon which she shed happy tears the morn- 
ing after her betrothal to you. And she added 
that tears had been shed upon this rose also, but 
you could judge if they were happy tears.” 

Then Earl knew it was all over, and he turned 
his face to the wall and lay there quite silent for a 
long time. Then he asked Mrs. Evert to bring 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


309 


Mm a tiny jewel case which she would find in the 
Ibreast pocket of his coat. 

She brought it and unfastened it for him, he 
being unable to use his left arm. In the case lay 
a withered rose and the fragments of their broken 
betrothal ring. Laying the fresh rose beside them, 
he looked sadly into her face, saying : 

“Read my love story, Aunt Nellie. Between 
the roses over which she shed glad and sorrowful 
tears lies our broken betrothal ring, crushed by 
me ! Oh, that I could undo the past ! But it is 
too late to recross the stream now ; we are indeed 
4 divided.’ How vividly she realized when reciting 
that poem that it was a faithful picture of our 
lives. But I — blind fool that I was — went madly 
on, and could not see the end ; and now, God help 
ns, we are indeed ‘ divided.’ I seem to hear her 
sweet voice say, as she said with such a tender 
xing of pathos that night, 

“ ‘ But two are walking apart forever, 

And wave their hands in a mute farewell.’ ” 

That evening, as Ivy sat beside Earl, he told her 
that it was all over between him and Edna ; then 
putting his uninjured arm around his sister’s 
waist, he drew her to him, saying : 

“ My gentle Ivy, my sweet sister. You cling to 
me still, my Ivy, though I have gone down in ruin 
and disgrace.” 

She wept softly beside him ; then when he turned 


310 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


away as though he wished to sleep, she quietly^ 
withdrew and wrote a letter to Bertie Boss, ex- 
plaining to him all that had occurred, and adding 
that it was Earl’s intention to travel over the 
Western States as soon as his injuries would per- 
mit ; and she finally ended by imploring Boss to 
come and make himself Earl’s traveling compan- 
ion, shield him as much as possible from tempta- 
tion, and try if friendship could not accomplish 
what love had failed to do. When Earl was able 
to sit up he sent a note to Edna, imploring her to 
come to see him. 

She came and found him much paler than she 
had expected. When Mrs. Evert and Ivy had quiet- 
ly withdrawn to an adjoining room, Earl turned 
to Edna, who was standing at the window looking 
out through a mist of tears. 

“ Edna,” he said, “ is it all over ? Have you 
ceased to love me ? ” 

She bowed her head, unable to control her voice. 

Earl shivered as if a cold wind had blown upon 
him. After a pause he said — 

“Ido not wonder ; I only wonder that your love 
has clung to me so long. In any case it is best 
that we should part, for if I did not cause you to 
hate me, I should break your heart, and I love you 
too sincerely to sacrifice your life to mine. Always 
remember that I love you purely and sincerely, 
and it breaks my heart to give you up. Yet I can 
truly say with the poet, 4 It is better to have loved 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


311 


and lost, than never to have loved at all.’ I should 
have sunk long ago to a lower degradation than I 
have, had it not been that your love held me up.” 

“ Earl ! ” she exclaimed, coming and standing 
beside him in trembling eagerness. “ Earl, you 
will not let our parting cause you to become reck- 
less, will you ? You will always try your best to 
live a good, true life, will you not ? Then as he 
hesitated, she added, “ I would rather endure a life 
of pain and sorrow, than to know that you were 
lost through me.” 

Earl saw that he might hold her through that 
fear, and he struggled a moment with the tempta- 
tion, but his love overcome all, and he replied — 

“ I will always remember that it would grieve 
you to know that I sank, and though I am a poor, 
weak creature, I will do my best to do right.” 

“ Your promise has taken a great weight from 
off my heart,” she said tearfully. “ And now good- 
bye, Earl, your welfare will always be very, very 
dear to me.” 

He looked at her with a pale, pleading face, — 

“Edna,” he said, “ I have loved you for years ; 
and I can not tear this love out of my heart now. 
I think Flossie was right when she said that my 
lips ought not to touch your pare face. But you 
will kiss me once before you go, will you not ? It 
would seem like a blessing, a sacred sign.” 

Stooping and laying one hand upon his wavy 
hair, where it so often had lovingly rested, she 


312 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


pressed a kissed upon his brow, saying tearfully, 
“ God bless you, Earl, God bless you now and for- 
ever.” 

Passing his arm around her waist, he drew her to 
his breast, crying brokenly — 

“ Darling ! darling ! O, my beloved, must I give 
you up ? This is far worse than death. Darling ! 
darling, remember always that I have loved you ; 
do love you far, far better than life ! ” 

Then he released her and she passed from the 
room, her face all wet with his agonizing tears. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


313 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

“ OUR ONLY HOPE IS TO FORGET.” 

“ And oh ! I feel in that was given, 

A blessing never meant for me ; 

Thou wert too like a dream of Heaven 
For earthly love to merit thee.” 

When Edna returned home after parting from 
Earl, she passed silently to her room, and after 
changing her street dress for a cool muslin, she 
went to her bureau, and took therefrom Archie’s 
Bible. 

Commonly she did not use the one which had 
been her brother’s dying gift ; but the very sacred- 
ness with which she always regarded it, seemed to 
make the occasional use of it like an entering into 
the holy place, where she communed with her 
brother’s God. 

Turning hastily to the sixth chapter of second 
Corinthians, she read — “Be ye not unequally yoked 
together with unbelievers ; for what fellowship 
hath righteousness with unrighteousness ? or what 
communion hath light with darkness ? And what 
concord hath Christ with Belial ? or what part hath 
he that believeth with an infidel ? ” These words, 
which a few months before had seemed almost cruel 
in the command which they laid upon her, now 
seemed to smile back a blessing. When she first 
learned that Earl was acquiring intemperate hab- 


314 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


its, lier love at that time was so strong, that she 
wonld have married him, notwithstanding she ab- 
horred his grievous fault. But the words, “ Be ye 
not unequally yoked with unbelievers ” seemed so 
plainly a command of the Most High, that she fal- 
tered in her purpose ; loth to give Earl up or to 
prove disloyal to the Word of God. So she strove 
tearfully and prayerfully to lead him upward, but 
to no avail ; he only sank deeper and deeper, and 
she was by nature too high-souled and pure-minded 
to be able to continue to bestow her love upon one 
whose character she could neither admire nor re- 
spect ; and her love died the natural death of love^ 
bestowed upon an unworthy object. 

Sad indeed would have been her fate if the mar- 
riage vows had already been spoken. How she 
poured out thanksgiving to God, that his Word 
had kept her from becoming a drunkard’s wife. 

Edna had so long been oppressed by the thought 
of being obliged to give Earl up, that now, since 
the renunciation was complete, her heartbeat more 
lightly than it had done for many months. The 
only feeling of sadness that she experienced was> 
caused by her sympathy for Earl. He would al- 
ways be a very, very dear friend ; and she would 
ever cherish the memory of him as he had been ere 
he took the downward path ; thinking of him tear- 
fully, fondly, even as we think of the,, dead. 

Who can explore the depths of a woman’s heart? 
How often we see some woman clinging fondly to? 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


315 


her degraded husband, when we know that she can 
neither honor, revere nor love him. 

In early years he touched the fountain of tender- 
ness which dwells in the heart of every true 
woman; and its springs can never quite dry up, 
although he may sink so low as to become an ob- 
ject of scorn to all the world beside. 

Presently Flossie came slowly into the room. 
She felt very sure that Edna must be overwhelmed 
with grief, and she wished to comfort her, but felt 
quite at a loss to know how to proceed. 

Edna knew Flossie’s errand by the expression of 
her face, so putting an arm caressingly about her, 
Edna said, — “ Then you have heard, dear, that I 
have broken my engagement with Earl ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Flossie in an awe-struck tone. “And 
— and — Yiolet you are not — heart-broken ?” 

A smile flitted across Edna’s face as she replied, 
“No, I believe not. I am aware the poet asserts 
that ‘The heart may break, yet brokenly live on,” 
but I think my heart is throbbing too healthfully 
for a broken one. But seriously, dear, I am sad r 
not on my own account, however, but only for Earl. 
As for myself, I feel a peacefulness and nearness 
to God such as I have not experienced before for 
many a weary day.” 

Flossie broke out passionately — “ Well, I think 
it was just horrid mean of Earl to act so, I — ” 

Edna put up her hand with an imploring ges- 
ture, “ Don’t, Flossie,” she said; Earl was weak, 


316 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


only weak. Thousands go down beneath this curse 
every year. Believing themselves strong, they 
trust in their strength and fail.” 

“ Then you were not angry with Earl when you 
renounced him ?” Flossie wonderingly inquired. 

“No, indeed.” 

“ Well I don’t see how you could give him up 
then. I never could give up one I loved, that way, 
unless I got real mad at him ; then I would give 
him back his heart with a vengeance, and probably 
cry my eyes out afterward. But I never intend to 
fall in love,” she continued. “ If any one ever 
should be silly enough to fall in love with me, I 
shall compliment him upon his good taste, and po- 
litely inform him that Flossie Evert irrevocably 
made up her mind many years before, to steer clear 
of love and lovers. 

“ Oh, I am speaking the truth,” she said, as Edna 
smiled derisively. There are too many shoals and 
quicksands in matrimonial waters for jne. I never 
undertook to conduct but one love affair, and you 
and Earl have made sad shipwreck of that. So I 
wash my hands of the whole matter henceforth and 
forever.” 

“ Ah, but love will come some day, my darling,” 
said Edna. “ Love will come and you will make 
room in your tender little heart for her and will 
cherish her. Some day I hope to see you the queen 
of a happy household.” 

“No,” said Flossie, resolutely, “I shall never 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 317 

marry. We will just be two little old maids to- 
gether.” 

Then as a sudden thought struck her, she looked 
searchingly into Edna’s eyes, saying : “ You don’t 
love — any one else do you, Violet ? ” 

Edna knew to whom Flossie’s “ any one else ” 
referred, and an additional color crept into her 
cheeks as she replied — 

“No, not as you mean. You are dearer to me 
now, Flossie, than any one in all the world 
besides.” 

Flossie embraced Edna, saying — “You dear, 
sweet creature ! If we don’t float down the stream 
of Time, two blissfully happy old maids, then my 
name isn’t Flossie Evert.” 

A few days later Bertie Boss came in answer to 
Ivy’s appeal. 

Earl was pleased with the prospect of having 
Boss for a traveling companion, and was anxious 
to be off, hoping that new scenes would restore 
his peace of mind. 

Flossie went almost daily to see Earl. She hard- 
ly knew whether she was most sorry for, or angry 
at him ; and she petted and scolded him by turns, 
until the poor fellow was quite bewildered. 

He refused his uncle’s invitation to visit at Evert 
Place, and on the morning of his departure, Mrs. 
Evert, Flossie, and the doctor went to see him off 
and to bring Ivy home with them. 

Edna deemed it best that she and Earl should 


318 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


not meet ; so she wrote him a kind, friendly letter 
and sent it to him by Flossie. 

After reading it he folded it up tenderly, saying 
sadly to himself, “The last.” 

When Flossie returned she gave Edna a letter 
which Earl had written before leaving. It ran as 
follows : 

“Dear Edna: — I cannot leave this scene of 
past joys and present humiliation without writing 
you a few words of farewell. Once I believed 
there would be no farewells spoken between us 
until the final farewell when death separated us ; 
but I have since learned the truth which the poet 
voices — 


“ 1 There are words of deeper sorrow 
Than the wail above the dead.’ 

“ And so the words must be spoken ; and with a 
heart aching with the burden of its love for you, I 
say, Farewell, oh best beloved. God grant to you 
the peace and joy which I can never know. And 
may all the wishes of your pure heart be realized. 

“ It seems to me now like the sheerest folly that 
I should ever have imagined that I might win you. 
But for all that you have been to me in the past, 
I thank you. Your name will ever represent to 
me all that is loveliest and best ; and by my 
knowledge of you, I will think the more highly of 
womanly purity and nobleness. I yearn to see 
your face once more, to hear your voice ; but I 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


319 


know that my presence would only cause you fresh 
sorrow, therefore I refused my uncle’s invitation to 
his house. I have already caused you so many 
tears that I am burdened with the memory of 
them. Never forget that I have and do love you, 
purely and sincerely ; and my love is as lasting as 
my life. I ask nothing of Omnipotence for my- 
self, and am ready now for anything which a 
malignant fate may decree against me ; but I earn- 
estly pray that God will open his great storehouse 
of blessings for you, and that His holy angels may 
'have charge over you, to lead you in paths of per- 
fect peace. 

“ And now there is one thing more to be said, 
which almost breaks my heart to say it; but 
knowing that peace and happiness can come to 
you only by forgetfulness of me, and remembering 
all the tears and heart-aches that I have caused 
you in the past, I say, forget graceless, repentant 

Earl.” 

Edna dropped many pearly tears upon Earl’s 
letter ; then she folded it up and laid it away with 
Archie’s Bible and other mementos of her belov- 
ed dead. As she did so she said sadly, “The 
last.” Ah ! little did either think how their paths 
would cross again. 

The month that followed was a peaceful, un- 
eventful one to the inmates of Evert Place. 

Each morning Edna and Flossie arose with the 


320 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


sun, and took long, delightful rides upon their 
white horses, coming back for breakfast with 
‘happy faces and healthful appetites. 

Mr. Thoresby, their new minister, was rapidly 
growing in favor, though he could never be beloved 
as Homer was — whose loving heart and pure life 
they had known and admired from his babyhood 
up — yet he was so kindly and wise that they be- 
gan to love and honor him accordingly. 

One day when Edna and Flossie called upon 
Mrs. Thoresby, they found her looking so much 
rosier than when she came among them, that they 
could not refrain from commenting upon the fact. 

“ O, yes,” Mrs. Thoresby said, brightly, “ my 
husband and I are quite well now; and we feel 
that we cannot sufficiently thank the dear friend 
who so kindly made the exchange with us. We 
shall go back to our labors there with renewed 
health and zeal. I say our, for of course I help 
my husband ; there is so much that a woman can 
do to help on the work in a place like New Or- 
leans.” 

“ You must be very happy,” said Edna warmly, 
j “ I have always deemed the life of a minister of 
the gospel the happiest upon earth; then surely 
the being that comes next in the scale of happi- 
ness must be the minister’s wife, for she — ” Then 
meeting the laughing, quizzical glance of Flossie's 
dark eyes, Edna stopped, blushing and confused. 

Seeing Edna’s confusion, Flossie’s eyes danced 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


321 


with mirth and a smile rippled over her lips and 
dimpled mischievously in her rosy cheeks. 

After they had returned home Edna was sitting- 
in her room doing some needle work ; Flossie had 
been busy in the studio for some time, but at last 
she came slowly into the room, carrying in her 
hand the drawing she had made of Homer and 
Edna the day of the pic-nic. 

“Violet,” she said, with an apologetic air, 
“ could you not take care of this picture ? It an- 
noys me greatly, for I am always afraid some one 
will see it, and that would be unkind both to you 
and Homer.” 

Her manner did not deceive Edna at all, and 
she looked up with a smile, while a soft blush 
tinged her fair cheeks, as she replied, — 

“Yes, I suppose so; I do not wish you to be 
annoyed by anything which concerns me. But, 
Flossie, I think I heard you say some time ago 
that you had washed your hands of love and love 
affairs, now and forever. Look to it, my dear, that 
you do not have to wash them over again.” 


322 


EDNA CARLISLE! 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A LETTER, “ MADE OF THE MOST CONVINCING 
FLOWERS.” 

“An exquisite invention this, 

Worthy of Love’s most honeyed kiss ; 

This art of writing billet-doux 
In buds, and odors, and bright hues ; 

In saying all one feels and thinks, 

In clever daffodils and pinks ; 

Uttering as well as silence may, 

The sweetest words, the sweetest way, 

And growing ones own words and fancies, 

In orange tubs and beds of pansies.” 

Shortly after receiving the first edition of her 
work, Edna went upon a short visit to Taylorville. 
?She took with her a volume of the poems and 
when she presented it to her mother, Mrs. Slater 
.smiled joyously, and hastily turned the pages as 
if impatient to know the contents. 

Then the old, troubled look swept across her 
face, and tears gathered in her eyes and slowly 
trickled down her cheeks. 

Edna noticed the change that had come over her 
mother’s face, and putting out her hand with a 
caressing gesture, said softly — 

“ What is it, Mother ? ” 

Mrs. Slater hastily wiped away her tears, saying 
sadly — 

“It is unkind of me to cloud your joy; but I 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


323 


never see you successful or triumphant in any- 
thing, or see you do a worthy action, that Remorse 
does not point his finger at me and say — ‘ What 
heights of eminence might not your other child 
.have reached, if you had cared for him and cher- 
ished him ? Does not his death sit heavy on your 
soul ? ’ God grant that you, my child, may never 
Enow the fiend, Remorse.” 

Edna sat quite silent for a moment, looking out 
of the window through a mist of tears ; finally she 
:said, — 

“ At least you do not shift the blame from your 
own shoulders by saying — 4 God took him.’ I 
have known persons who would say that God took 
him to convert you.” 

“No,” said Mrs. Slater, “I realize too well that 
his life was lost through my neglect. But I am 
aware that there are persons who think that God 
sometimes sends death to one person to convert 
another. Forgetting that we are mortal and sub- 
ject to the laws which govern mortality, they 
regard death as a messenger from God, rather than 
a consequence that follows the failure to carefully 
‘comply with the laws of health.” 

“ That reminds me,” said Edna, “ of a circum- 
stance which occurred a few years ago. Dr. Evert 
had a friend living in the city, a man of some 
local prominence, who after a short illness died; 
and I remember hearing Dr. Evert refer to the 
matter regretfully, saying, ‘ that his friend came 


324 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


to liis death by the transgression of some plainly 
written law of health.’ A few days later, while 
reading a city paper, I was very much surprised to 
see that some of the man’s friends had passed 
what they were pleased to term ‘ resolutions of 
respect,’ which began by saying, 4 Whereas, It has 
pleased God to call from our midst our worthy and 
esteemed fellow-laborer,’ and it went on in the usual 
style. I was somewhat puzzled, and called Dr. 
Evert’s attention to the matter, and he said rather 
indignantly that their ‘resolutions of respect’' 
were not very respectful to God, whatever they 
might be toward the man. 

“ Dr. Evert very early taught me that if I care- 
fully regarded the laws of health, I might expect 
to live to a good old age, unless I fell a victim to 
some contagious disease, and in that case, my life 
would depend upon the ability oi my constitution 
to withstand the disease ; rather than whether God 
would perform a miracle and save my life by tear- 
ing down the laws of nature which he himself has 
established.” 

Mrs. Slater said sadly — “I cannot understand 
why so many people regard God as the dispenser 
of sickness and death. When our Saviour was 
upon earth he said repeatedly that he came to do 
his Father’s will; and the apostle says, ‘In him 
was the fullness of the God-liead bodily ; ’ yet he 
went about healing the sick and raising the dead ; 
evidently God had not sent sickness and death to 


or, Flossie's violet. 


325 


•those persons, for the Son would not have undone 
the work of his Father. And when Lazarus was 
laid in the tomb, Jesus stood beside that humble 
grave and wept with Mary and Martha, even when 
he knew that in another moment he would break 
the bands of death and restore their beloved 
brother to their arms. Yet He, who was as divine 
as his Father, whose name is Love, He stood beside 
that lowly grave and wept at the sorrow which 
death had caused.” 

Tears were glittering upon Edna’s lashes as she 
said, — “For that manifestation of love and sym- 
pathy I shall adore Him forever; He is, indeed, 
my Lord and my Hod.” 

Then she added, “I do not wonder that many 
persons fear Hod rather than love him; for they 
regard him as an all-powerful being who keex>s 
watch over them, and if he sees that their heart 
clings fondly to some one of earthy he removes the 
object of their affection that they may think only 
of him. What a perversion of Holy Writ ! Why, 
the whole Bible is one doctrine of love. ‘Hus- 
bands, love your wives,’ ‘ Little children, love one 
another.’ And it teaches that we should so love 
our friends that we would be willing to lay down 
our lives for them. 

“ Oh ! ” she exclaimed, with flushed cheeks and 
shining eyes, “ the Hod I worship — the Hod — not 
of theology, but of the Bible — is a Hod of love, 
who watches over my wayward, faltering steps 


326 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


with infinite tenderness, while he guides me with 
patient, loving hand toward a home of joy and 
peace. And when death kisses my loved ones to 
sleep, God takes them lovingly to his breast, say- 
ing to me, ‘ Peace ! my child, peace ! be still. I 
know thy sorrow, I know thy tears, but you shall 
meet again. In my presence is fullness of joy, 
and at my right hand are pleasures forevermore/ 
Oh, to serve such a God as that is joy in the 
present life and eternal bliss in the world to come !” 

A few days after Edna’s return to Evert Place,, 
she might have been seen one afternoon sitting out 
in the summer house ; a book lay beside her, but it 
was unopened, for her mind was wandering off 
upon the wings of fancy. 

Presently, taking a pencil and paper, she began 
to write, pausing ever and anon to gaze into 
vacancy, and then again resume her writing with 
a look of rapture that would have told an interest- 
ed observer that her thoughts were traversing that 
sacred realm where only the minds of poets 
wander. 

Unconsciously she formed a pleasing picture, as 
she sat thus occupied in the green bower, sur- 
rounded by swaying branches of honeysuckle, 
trumpet flowers, and Virginia creepers. 

At least so thought Esther Russell, who, having 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


327 


come in company with her mother to call at Evert 
Place, and being told that Edna was out upon the 
lawn, had gone in search of her. 

Finding her thus employed, Esther paused a 
moment, debating in her mind whether or not she 
should make her presence known. 

The question was speedily settled, however, for 
little Homer had toddled out after his mother, and 
he broke the stillness with his childish prattle, 
and Edna, hearing his voice, looked up — saw her 
friend, and the rapt look speedily gave place to 
one of delight and glad welcome. 

Esther was spending the summer in the home of 
her girlhood, and she and Edna met quite often 
now, but the occasion was not the less pleasant 
on that account. 

After the greetings were over, and Edna had 
given her friend a seat in the cool retreat, where 
the balmy air which fanned their cheeks came to 
them perfumed with the odor of mignonette and 
sweet alyssum, Esther said, — 

“ This is indeed a pleasant spot in which to spend 
a summer afternoon, but you appeared so radiantly 
happy that it seemed a pity to recall your mind to 
things of earth.” 

Then Edna smilingly replied that the pleasure 
of meeting her friend excelled the joy she experi- 
enced in her “ flights of fancy ; ” and so they talked 
gayly on unregarding the flight of time. Little 
Homer, with the sweet confidence of childhood, 


328 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


came readily to Edna’s arms and she held him in 
a loving embrace, and listened with delight to his 
childish prattle. Looking at him with laughing 
eyes, she said, — 

“Oh, it is so long since I dwelt in the valley of 
childhood, I have forgotten the language.” 

“ ‘ Is it warm in that green valley, 

Yale of childhood, where you dwell? 

Is it calm in that green valley, 

Bound whose bournes such great hills swell? 

When, like shooting stars, the angels 
To your couch at niglit-fall go, 

Are their swift wings heard to rustle? 

Tell me ! for you know.’ ” 

Then as she pushed back the clustering curls 
from the broad, white baby brow, and observed 
the wise sweetness of the dimpled mouth and 
great brown eyes, her thoughts flew to Homer the 
elder, and she remarked upon the strong resem- 
blance between the two. 

“Yes,” said Esther, “mother often says that he 
is the exact likeness of my brother in his baby- 
hood.” And then she added softly, “If he will, 
but- resemble his uncle in mind and heart, my 
fondest wishes will be realized.” 

“I think that you are justly proud of your 
brother,” Edna said, “ and I believe you will have 
reason to be proud of your son.” 

Esther said, “ We received a letter from my 
brother to-day, and I fear from the tone of it that 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


329 


he is growing home-sick ; there was a vein of sad- 
ness running through his letter which is something 
quite unusual. He stated that there is much 
sickness in New Orleans at present ; and mother 
is nervously anxious lest yellow fever should 
reach there. We hear that there have been several 
cases of it in the south.” 

“ You do not believe Homer is in danger?” 

“ No,” Esther replied, “ I think he would have 
told us if the disease had spread to New Orleans. 
I am not willing to borrow trouble ; and I believe 
that he has the blues, and in that case I feel con- 
vinced that I can prescribe a remedy.” 

Then as Edna looked up inquiringly, Esther 
added, “ I would prescribe a volume of your 
poems.” 

“ Do you really believe he would care for them ?” 
Edna blushingly inquired. 

Esther smilingly replied, “ I believe he would 
prize them beyond anything else, unless it were 
the gift of the — well I won’t. I was going to add 
something about the gift of the hand which wrote 
those poems, but I will be merciful and spare your 
blushes.” 

In the seclusion of her room that evening, Edna 
opened a volume of her poems, and after hesitating 
a moment, placed a tiny bouquet (which was com- 
posed of pansies, heliotropes and blue-eyed forget- 
me-nots) upon a verse with the evident intention of 
marking it. 


330 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Slyly, and with a look of tender shame, she 
pressed a kiss upon the flowers, then closed the 
book and prepared it for the mail ; and as her 
hand traced the name, love’s birthday blush crept 
softly over cheek and brow. 


! 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


331 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE STORY OF THE FLOWERS TOLD. 

“ Know'st thou the land where the lemon trees bloom, 

Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket’s gloom, 

Where the wind ever soft, from the blue heaven blows, 

And the groves are of laurel, and myrtle and rose 

When Homer first went to New Orleans, he was 
almost bewildered by the change of pastorate from 
a rural community to that of a mission church in 
this old city teeming with foreigners, priest-craft 
and superstition. Only a few faithful ones stood 
by him, while in the stainlessness of his young 
manhood, he stood up and pleaded eloquently with 
the people to cast aside all creeds, and take only 
the Word of God to teach them how to live and 
die. 

But few even paused to heed him, they cared 
not for God, much less to know his will. 

Sin and shame and misery abounded ; and 
Homer’s heart yearned to lead them to a better 
life. 

Day after day he plodded from one grim tene- 
ment to another; often entering homes wretched 
and grimy with neglect, hoping to be permitted to 
speak the words of Life to the coarse, dull inmates. 

Having been reared in a pure and blameless 
home, and accustomed to all of the refinements of' 
life, his soul shrank back abhorred from the filth. 


332 EDNA CARLISLE ; 

tliat met liis eyes, and the profane language that 
stirred the air. 

Yet still he labored on, and learned to kneel by 
dying beds in these abject abodes ; and with piti- 
ful, unshrinking fingers wiped the death dew from 
the brows of those who would not heed the mes- 
sage of love which he bore. 

Yet most of all, his heart was pitifully stirred 
for the children whom he saw growing up amidst 
poverty, intemperance and vice. So he hired a 
teacher and established a private school, and he 
sought out the little ones, and brought them where 
they might learn things befitting their tender 
years. And as he saw them acquiring cleanly 
habits, and heard them in childish accents lisping 
the sacred words which he diligently taught them, 
his heart exulted with hope. 

The picture was not all dark ; by patieht labor 
and with loving zeal he was able to bring some 
souls to the Master to receive forgiveness of sins, 
and begin life anew with their faces set Zionward. 
Here also, his eyes which were wont to rejoice in 
the beauties of nature, found much to admire in 
the tropical luxuriance of this sunny land. 

He made the acquaintance of some people of 
wealth and refinement, who gladly welcomed him 
to their beautiful homes ; but his charge was a 
mission church among the poorer class of people, 
and here he diligently labored ; and in their hum- 
ble abodes found many a woe which his willing 


or, Flossie’s violet. 333 = 

hands could alleviate, many a burden that he 
might share. 

But often he grew home-sick, heart and brain 
alike weary, and then the letters which he received 
from home were indeed like gleans of sunshine to 
him. 

His mother wrote him long, loving letters, full of 
faith in God and loving pride in her son, who had 
consecrated his life to the Master’s service. 

Esther’s letters were no less tender, but more 
newsy. It was through her that he learned with 
deep sorrow, that Earl Whitney had been wound- 
ed in a saloon. A few weeks later she wrote that 
the engagement between Edna and Earl was brok- 
en, and that Earl had gone away. 

As she met Edna quite often, Esther was 
able to tell her brother much that deeply inter- 
ested him, and she often went into detail, telling 
him how Edna looked upon this or that occasion 
when they met ; how she was dressed, and what 
she said if the conversation in any way referred 
to him. 

“ Edna was free !” Often he told himself this, as 
if there were comfort in the repetition of the words. 
And he longed to plead his cause at the forum of 
her heart ; but feared to trust a cause so import- 
ant to the cold medium of pen and paper ; and so 
he tried to school his heart to patience until his 
return home. He had waited for years; he well 
might wait a little longer, he told himself. 


'334 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


Then as time went on and he heard of the suc- 
cess attending her literary efforts, he wrote her a 
letter of congratulation, in which he did not at- 
tempt to veil his undying love for her ; but he did 
not reveal that he hoped some day to win a return 
of her affection. 

To this letter he received no reply. Though he 
did not know it, it was many days before his letter 
was read by Edna, she being absent on a visit at 
the time of its arrival ; and the letter was not for- 
warded to her, because she was daily expected to 
return. 

As no reply was vouchsafed him, he grew de- 
spondent, and felt more hopeless than he had ever 
been in all those years of patient waiting. 

The summer was intensely hot; sickness and 
death abounded, and sorrow seemed to meet him on 
every hand. 

At last yellow fever swept over the city. Thous- 
ands at its dread approach fled for their lives, care- 
less of the sick and dying. Others, terror-stricken, 
shut themselves up in their homes, living in mortal 
fear of the disease, and by their mental excitement, 
prepared themselves to become its earliest victims. 

It was almost impossible to find nurses for the 
sick, and daily the death list swelled to greater 
proportions. 

With a few other brave souls, Homer went 
among the sufferers, cared for the sick, and closed 
dying eyes. Day and night he kept weary vigils. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


335 


Thoughtless of his own comfort, he was unwilling 
to leave while he could be of service. 

At last, about a week after the outbreak of the 
epidemic he was taken ill and obliged to go to his 
hotel. He found several letters awaiting him, and 
also a package, evidently a book. 

He could not think of reading all the letters, his 
suffering was too great, but there was one address- 
ed in his mother’s familiar writing, and this he 
could not let go unread. 

Sighing for the touch of the gentle hand that had 
ministered to him in childhood and youth, he broke 
the seal of his mother’s letter and read the loving 
missive. Head it slowly, painfully, on account of 
the blinding pain in his head. When he had fin- 
ished its perusal he pressed it to his lips saying 
softly — 

“Dear, dear Mother! perhaps your boy may nev- 
er see you again — never in this world.” 

A moment later his eye rested upon the pack- 
age lying upon the table. He unwrapped it and 
discovered a volume of poems in blue and gold, 
and his heart throbbed wildly, and a mist swam 
before his eyes as he read the beloved name of the 
author, “Edna Carlisle.” 

All unconscious of pain or weariness now, he 
read poem after poem with trembling eagerness, 
until at last he came to the one which Edna had 
marked with the flowers. 

Removing them and reading their silent message, 


336 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


his face grew radiant with joyous wonderment. 
And so this was the answer to his letter, the assur- 
ance that her thoughts turned to him, with a plea 
for like remembrance. It was a reply so modest, 
and so delicately conveyed, and withal so charac- 
teristic of Edna, that his eyes grew tender with rev- 
erent love and adoration. Then he turned to the 
lines which were stained by the purple blood of the 
pansy and read : 

‘Who can tell when love will come or go ? 

Little Cupid with his tiny bow, 

Asks not the victim, 4 Wilt thou have it so? ’ 

An absent form sometimes grows strangely dear, 

Whose love was not returned when suing near, 

Who perchance w r as seen depart without one pitying tear.’* 


] 

( 


Homer’s eyes sparkled with hope as he read the 
lines. His heart leapt joyously, propelling the 
ruddy blood to his cheeks, and all unconscious of 
physical pain, he arose and paced back and forth 
across the room. 

Then going to his escritoir he wrote hastily for 
a few minutes; but overtaxed nature could endure 
no more. There came a ringing in his ears, a dark- 
ness as of death swept over his eyes, and he fell 
heavily to the floor. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


337 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

“ DOWN ! THOU CLIMBING SORROW.” 

“All that’s bright must fade— 

The brightest still the fleetest; 

All that’s sweet was made. 

But to be lost when sweetest.” 

As the rising sun, heralded by clouds of pur- 
ple and crimson and gold, lights up Evert Place, 
a beautiful picture is presented to view, of dew 
coyered flowers, shedding on the air their fragrant 
breath, and vines and trees bending beneath their 
weight of luscious fruit. 

A beautiful picture, but Edna, who was wont to 
rejoice in nature’s beauty, looks on all that pano- 
rama of crimson and purple and gold, with eyes 
which see not what they rest upon. 

Restlessly she paces the long veranda, pausing 
ever and anon to gather a cluster of scarlet creep- 
ers, nervously tear them to pieces and cast them 
from her. 

An hour later, Flossie, dressed in pink, her 
golden curls floating over her shoulders and her 
dark eyes beaming with gayety, flutters out on the 
porch like some brilliant, glancing humming bird. 

Throwing her arm around Edna’s waist, Flossie 

says laughingly, 

22 


338 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“ Have you never heard that 4 the early bird 
catches the worm ? ’ O you poor little mite of a 
worm, aren’t you afraid that naughty early bird 
will catch you ?” 

Then, as she observed that her words seemed to 
fall on unheeding ears, *she exclaimed — 

44 Are you ill, Violet ? Your cheeks are as white 
as your dress.” 

44 No,” Edna absently replied. 

Looking searchingly at her, Flossie said, 44 1 am 
sorry that mamma and I have promised to accom- 
pany Ivy home to-day ; I fear you are going to be 
ill. If you are not well, we will not leave you, 
dear.” 

Edna roused herself and replied — 44 1 am feeling 
quite well.” 

44 Violet, I wish you would revoke your decision 
to visit your mother, and would go with us to 
Chicago. We are to be gone only two weeks, you 
know.” 

44 No, I can not go to Chicago,” Edna said with 
u far away look in her eyes. 

Presently the morning meal was announced, and 
the family gathered around the breakfast table. 

An unusual silence prevailed, Flossie and Ivy 
doing the most of the talking. Edna spoke no 
word and only made a pretence of eating. 

At last the doctor, who had been gravely silent, 
looked up and, addressing his wife said — 

-“Nellie, I can no longer disregard this plea for 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


339 


help. I must go to New Orleans. The papers 
state that the death list is daily increasing, and 
it is terrible to me to think of the suffering of the 
sick, many of whom die, only for the want of medi- 
cal aid and proper nursing. 

“ Do not think of going, Papa,” Flossie ex- 
claimed; “it would kill me to see you start.” 

Mrs. Evert did not reply for a moment, finally 
speaking in a low tone which she vainly strove to 
render steady, she said : — “ If you deem it your 
duty to go, I will not hinder you, Wilfred. I only 
stipulate that you allow me to accompany you.” 

“ My wife !” he said in tremulous tones, “do you 
think I would allow you to expose yourself to such 
danger ? No, if that is the only terms upon which 
I can go, I must give it up.” 

Turning to him, Edna said, “ I have been revolv- 
ing this subject in my mind for several hours. 
I wish to go to nurse the sick, but delayed men- 
tioning it because I feared that you would not con- 
sent to my going.” 

“ I would indeed refuse my consent,” Dr. Evert 
gravely replied. 

“ Do not forbid my going, I beg you,” she earn- 
estly pleaded ; “ for I must, indeed I must go.” 

“ Edna, ” he said, “ when you were adopted into 
my family, I vowed to so conduct myself that when 
I met your father in the ‘ better land,’ I could say 
to him, 4 1 have been as a father to your child ; ’ 
and I hope I have not failed.” 


340 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“You have been as a kind and loving father to 
me,” she interposed. 

“ Then give me the due obedience of a child. I 
refuse my consent to your going, — now let the mat- 
ter rest, we will speak no more upon this painful 
subject.” 

That morning Mrs. Evert, Ivy and Flossie left 
for Chicago, and Edna was to leave on the evening 
train for a short visit at her mother’s. During the 
afternoon, Edna called to learn if there was any 
improvement in the health of Mrs. Atwood, who 
for several days had been very ill of a fever. 

Esther came into the drawing-room in response 
to the card which Edna had sent up. 

“ Is your mother worse ?” Edna inquired as she 
noticed Esther’s tearful eyes and troubled counte- 
nance. 

“ Yes,” she replied, “ mother gradually grows 
worse. This morning I sent a telegram to Homer, 
and received a reply from a New Orleans physi- 
cian stating that Homer had succumbed to yellow 
fever. 

Her tears started forth afresh. “ O Edna, it is 
breaking my heart to think of my brother, my 
only brother, lying sick away from home, with per- 
haps no one to care for him ; perchance dying with 
no loving hand to wipe the death dew from his 
brow.” 

Edna arose, calm and pale, her sorrow was too 
deep for words or tears. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 341 

“I shall go to him,” she said, and started to 
leave the room. 

“ What do you mean, Edna ?” Esther exclaimed. 

“ I shall go to Homer on the next train, ” Edna 
replied, and without another word left the house. 

On reaching home, with that pale calmness 
which is born only of deep sorrow, she went to 
her room, and taking from its hiding place the 
drawing which Flossie had made the day of the 
pic-nic, Edna held it out before her, gazing long at 
Homer’s pictured face. 

“ O my love ! my love ! ” her pale lips murmured. 
I scorn myself that I could ever have been so un- 
kind to you. Fool that I was who did not know 
my own heart ! Fool and blind ! to think to wed 
a common man, when I might have married you — 
a prince of the house Royal — a child of the King of 
kings ! Oh, beautiful eyes ! I know so much of 
you ! And perhaps even now the fever has 
quenched the living light which played in them, 
and they may never beam on me, speaking forgive- 
ness !” 

She sank to the floor in the very abandonment 
of woe, and tearless sobs shook her from head to 
foot. 

Presently there came a knock at the door, and 
one of the servants called : — 

“ Miss Edna, the doctor wishes to see you in the 
library ! ” 


342 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


Calming herself as best she could, she obeyed 
the summons. 

“Edna,” said Dr. Evert, as she entered the room, 
“ I have sad intelligence. A telegram has come 
bearing the information that Homer is ill.” 

“ Uncle Wilfred,” she broke in passionately, 
“you will consent now to my going, will you 
not ? ” 

“ Why so ?” he inquired in surprise. 

Her face, which was* averted from him, was 
deathly pale, and he realized from the tones of her 
voice that she was laboring under deep emotion. 

“Why should you insist upon going because he 
is ill ?” 

“Because he will need my care. Because — oh 
Uncle can’t you see — must I tell you that — that — ” 
then she broke off suddenly. “ Do not forbid my 
going, for I must go to him.” 

Dr. Evert began to understand and he said — 
“Why, I thought it was Earl — ” then he paused 
undecided how to complete the sentence which 
he had begun in such haste. 

Edna broke in passionately, “I know what you 
would say. You thought it was Earl I loved, and 
now you think me fickle. But hear my defence 
ere you blame me.” 

She paused a moment, then went on in a voice 
which was trembling with emotion — 

“ Earl won my girlish love. If he had been as 
noble as my fancy painted him, my love would 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


348 


have been as unchanging as the eternal love of 
God. But there were chords in my heart which 
he never touched; depths he could not fathom; 
a want which his nature could not supply. 
Then as time went on, he pursued a course which 
made me realize more deeply that we were divided 
in the most important things of life ; besides, he 
lacked the strong will and strength of purpose, 
which in my eyes constitute the first essential of 
true manliness. But you know the result ; his 
course was such that you, his uncle, advised me 
to break my engagement with him, saying that you 
plainly saw that there was a life of misery in store 
for us both if we married. We realized this also, 
and so we parted ; for I had grown weary of al- 
ways looking down and had ceased to love a man 
whose character I could not respect. She paused 
a moment, then with averted face continued, — 

“ Through all these years Homer has loved me 
with a patient devotion which surely merits some 
return, and I have long realized that he represents 
my ideal of true nobility. A few days ago I re- 
ceived a letter from him which stirred my heart to 
its depths, and awoke a response such as Earl 
never possessed the power to call forth.” 

Then raising her eyes appealingly to Hr. Evert, 
she said piteously, — “Uncle Wilfred, if you do 
indeed wish to be as a father to me, you will con- 
sent to my going, for if Homer should die alone 


344 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


among strangers, I can never know happiness 
again. ” 

“ I will no longer forbid your going,” Dr. Evert 
gravely replied, “ but if you mill go, I will accom- 
pany you ; I can not let you go alone.” 

“ O no ! ” she said, “ you must not go, you 
might also be taken ill.” 

“ I apprehend no danger for myself,” he replied. 
<( We physicians escape many diseases on account 
of our fearlessness ; and yellow fever is a disease 
of which this is especially true, as all emotions 
tend to increase the liability to incur it.” 

“ Besides,” he added in a low tone, “ I go to en- 
deavor to save a life dear to God.” 

Edna sank into a chair, and tears of relief 
flowed down her cheeks. 

Dr. Evert gently stroked her bowed head, saying 
tenderly, — 

“ Poor child ! poor child ! Your heart has been 
xudely torn by love’s tempestuous tossings. God 
grant that it may enter into a settled port at last.” 

Then he started, and exclaimed, “ I had forgot- 
ten ! I brought a letter for you.” 

“ I have no thought for letters now',” she said, 
with a gesture of weariness. 

“ But this may interest you; I observed that it 
was post-marked New Orleans.” 

She reached her hand out eagerly for the letter. 
Opening it, she found apparently two letters in 
different hand writings. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


845 


Selecting first that which corresponded with the 
writing on the envelope, she read as follows : 

“ Miss Edna Carlisle : — Having been called in 
to render medical aid to Mr. Atwood, I find him 
painfully anxious lest a letter which he had been 
writing to you at the time he fell ill should not 
reach you. 

“ At his earnest request I stop in my busy round 
of duties to write this explanation and address 
this letter to you, believing that by relieving my 
patient’s mind I shall thus render him the best 
aid in my power. Respectfully, 

“ J. F. Randall, M. D.” 

With pallid face and trembling hands, Edna 
took up the enclosed letter and read : 

“Oh, Peerless Love : I read your message, and 
it was like the trumpet call of joy to my soul. It 
found me sick unto death ; I know not if I have 
pain now ; I can think only of you. I always be- 
lieved God meant us to love each other, our minds 
and souls so well accord ; it seemed that He meant 
you for my true Eve, and I never gave up the hope 
that sometime your heart would turn to me. I 
ever kept my heart virgined for you. Am I pre- 
suming too much upon your modest reply ? Ah, 
sweetheart, do I not understand your gentle nature 


346 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


too well to believe that you would have sent me 
those llowers, unless your heart was indeed mine ; 
and you meant to bid me hope ! And yet, oh, my 
beloved ! it may be this knowledge has come to me 
as a crowning blessing, ere I sink into a lonely 
grave in a distant land, far from kindred ties. Al- 
ready the dread disease, which has spread the pall 
of death over this city, is creeping in my veins and 
setting my brain on tire. I have seen so many die 
from its dread ravages that I scarcely dare hope to 
live ; yet, my beloved, I shall die happy ; the king 
of terrors can not rob me of the joy which the as- 
surance of your love has brought me, — but oh, I 
yearn for a sight of your face. Alas ! that desire 
is not likely to be granted me in this world ; but I 
fancy I see you living on to a good old age ; a 
sweet, silver-haired saint, crowned with years and 
good deeds ; while I, who passed away in the prime 
of my young manhood, wait at the Heavenly gate 
to welcome you there — my bride that was to be ! 
My dear, and only love, I never received a kiss 
from your dear lips ; a darkness obscures my vis- 
ion ; a terrible pain is shooting through my brain. 
Oh ! if you could but press one kiss upon my brow, 
I would say to the angels, — ‘The purest saint that 
ever lived kissed me there.’ But I am talking 
wildly. My Eve ! My God-given Eve, your love has 
robbed death of its” 

The letter came to a stop here. A blot marred 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


347 


the paper, and Edna knew that just then the pen 
had fallen from the nerveless hand. 


348 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

“dark lowers our fate.” 

“ Clasp me a little longer, on the brink 

Of fate ! while I can feel thy dear caress ; 

And when this heart has ceased to beat, oh ! think— 

And let it mitigate thy woes’ excess— 

That thou hast been all tenderness, 

And friend, to more than human friendship just, 

Oh ! by that retrospect of happiness, 

And by the hopes of an immortal trust, 

God shall assuage thy pangs when I am laid in dust.” 

Dr. Evert stood attentively regarding Edna while 
she read Homer’s letter. He saw the color coming 
and going fitfully in her cheeks ; then as she reach- 
ed the end her face paled to a deathly whiteness, 
and she arose, saying in low, excited tones, — 

“Oh ! I must go to him. If he he still living I 
will do battle with the death angel for his dear 
life; and if he be dead, then I will” — her voice 
died away in a tearless sob and she sank back 
upon the chair, and covered her face with her 
hands. 

Dr. Evert stroked her hair with a gesture which 
was almost womanly in its pitying tenderness. 

“Edna,” he said firmly, “you really must control 
your feelings. If you should go into the fever dis- 
trict with your mind and nerves in this excited 
state, you would surely fall a victim and would 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 349 

perhaps lose your own life, without being able to 
help Homer. 

“ The train we must take leaves here at four in 
the morning. I shall go to town now to get one of 
the city physicians to take charge of my patients 
in my absence ; fortunately there is little sickness 
in the neighborhood at present. Mrs. Atwood is 
the only case of any serious character, and I appre- 
hend no danger for her. While I am gone you 
must calm your nerves ; take some nourishment ; 
and see that your trunk is packed, for it may be 
necessary that we stay several weeks.” 

“My trunk is already packed,” she replied. 
“You know I intended to go to mother’s this even- 
ing ; and the dresses I had selected to wear there, 
being plain, will be suitable for a trip like this.” 

“Well, I am off now,” said Dr. Evert; “I think I 
shall return before nine. Meanwhile you must try 
to take some rest, for we have a very tiresome 
journey before us.” 

“Uncle,” she pleaded, as he was leaving the 
room, “ please let me have a medical work to read 
which treats of yellow fever.” 

He paused a moment, irresolute. 

“Iam afraid it will only tend to increase your 
nervousness,” he said. 

“Ho,” she replied, “it will not; it will give me 
confidence by instructing me how to care for him. 
You have always said I had a natural talent for 
nursing the sick ; and I must know all the symp- 


350 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


toms of this disease and method of treatment if I 
am to be of any service.” 

He brought her a large volume, and after a few 
more words left for the city. When he returned 
a couple of hours later he found her still studi- 
ously poring over the book. She was so absorbed 
that she took no notice of his entrance. 

“ Edna, have you eaten nothing since I left ?” he 
sternly inquired. She shook her head, and contin- 
ued reading. 

Dr. Evert went to her, closed the book and put 
it on the shelf in a more authoritative manner than 
he had ever evinced toward her before ; then turn- 
ing to her, he said, — ■ 

“If you will not eat, go to bed and sleep.” 

“ I am sure that I can not sleep,” she wearily re- 
plied. 

“And I am sure that you shall sleep,” he 
answered. So preparing a quieting draught he 
made her drink it. 

The opiate did its work and she slept heavily 
until in the gray dawn of the morning a servant 
aroused her to prepare for the journey ; and when 
she entered the breakfast-room, Dr. Evert observed 
with pleasure that although her cheeks were still 
pale, yet she was perfectly calm, and her nerves 
were as steady as his own. Immediately after 
breakfast they entered the carriage, and were driv- 
en to the depot. 

As the train, after receiving its passengers, with 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


351 


shriek of whistle and clanging of bell sped onward 
again, Edna’s eyes eagerly sought out the grand 
old stone house, with its towering, ivied walls, 
where Homer was born, and where his blameless 
youth had been spent. Would he ever walk those 
ancestral halls again ? she wondered. A mist 
swam before her eyes, and she bowed her head 
upon her hand and wept silently. 

On and on they sped ; making close connection, 
they paused not to rest either day or night. 

Upon the second day of their journey, at about 
eleven o’clock they reached New Orleans. 

The city seemed so silent, so deserted, that in- 
voluntarily they shivered as if a blast from a 
charnel house had swept upon them. 

Just as they reached the hotel, they met Hr. 
Randall, who informed them that he had just left 
Homer’s room, and that he was getting along as 
well as could be expected. 

Hr. Evert secured a room for Edna and left her 
there, bidding her make her toilet, while he went 
to prepare Homer for her visit. 

She hastily removed all traces of the dust of 
travel, brushed out her jetty tresses, and changed 
her traveling dress for a soft, silver gray, which 
would make no rustling in the sick room. 

Presently the doctor returned and said, in reply 
to her look of eager inquiry, — 

“ Yes, he is doing very well, and it was almost 


352 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


pitiful to witness liis joy when he learned that you 
were here.” 

The doctor looked at her wonderingly, surprised 
at her unusual loveliness. 

Excitement had lent a dazzling brilliancy to her 
eyes, and a color to her cheeks that struck him, 
although he had been accustomed to look upon 
her beauty daily. 

Before conducting her to Homer, Dr. Evert 
paused to say, warningly, — 

“ Be not too sanguine of his recovery. Though 
he appears to be doing well, yet there is still much 
to fear, for he is at present in the second stage of 
the disease, which is the most comfortable ; the 
worst is yet to come.” 

When Edna entered the room where Homer lay, 
he half arose from his pillow, quite unconscious of 
physical pain and weakness. 

He only knew that the girl he loved was coming 
to him with soft, noiseless step ; her graceful head 
was thrown slightly backward, a rosy bloom 
flushed her cheeks, her red lips were parted in a 
loving smile, and her dark blue eyes shone like 
■ stars. 

Then kneeling beside the bed, she pressed to her 
lips the hand extended to her, and tears of love 
and joy and sorrow welled to her eyes and trem- 
bled on her long black lashes. 

“ My love ! my peerless love ! ” Homer mur- 
mured in trembling, joyous tones; “ raise your 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


353 


sweet eyes to mine, that I may learn if this be a 
a dream or a blissful reality.” 

Then, as she raised her face, and he saw that 
upon her cheeks there came and went most human 
blushes, he exclaimed, — 

“ No ! thank God, this is not a dream. But I did 
dream of you, my love ; only an hour ago I fell 
asleep, and dreamt that I entered an enchanted 
land where the soft green grass was starred with 
fragrant blossoms. A low, sweet music stirred 
the balmy air which played upon my cheek, and 
while I wondered if I had reached the Glorified 
Land, I saw you coming toward me all in white, 
with orange blossoms in your hair and in your 
hands. Then a little cloud over and behind you 
caught my eye — a radiant cloud of crimson and 
gold and violet, that lay in beams of tremulous 
woven light. Then your brother’s face appeared 
therein, and seemed to smile upon us. And while 
I bowed my head in joyous wonderment, you 
pressed a kiss upon my brow : and I awoke to find 
it a dream. And yet not all a dream, for you have 
come, my peerless love, and I ask of Heaven no 
greater joy, than to die with your dear hand in 
mine.” 

“ But you will not die,” she said in a low tone ; 
ic live for my sake.” 

“ For your sake,” he repeated with a sad, sweet 
smile that wrung her heart with bitterest anguish. 
“ Ah, my beloved, life would indeed be sweet if 

23 


354 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


I might spend it by your side ; but I have lately set 
by too many death-beds to dare believe I can es- 
cape. But when I am gone, you can say that I lived 
thirty happy years, and your love was the crown- 
ing joy of my life.” 

Dr. Evert now came forward and begged that 
they would cease talking, lest the excitement 
would be injurious to Homer. 

But Edna staid near, where his eyes might rest 
upon her face and tell his love, though a silence 
was imposed on her lips. But as hour after hour 
slipped away, they could not close their eyes to 
the fact that his condition was rapidly becoming 
more dangerous. 

Whether this was caused by the excitement in- 
cident to their coming; or because he was ap- 
proaching the third stage of the disease, which is 
the most dangerous ; or for lack of proper nursing 
before they came ; or perhaps a commingling of all 
these reasons, I cannot tell ; but it was very evident 
that their patient was much worse than he had 
been in the morning. 

About five o’clock in the afternoon, as Edna was 
sitting beside him bathing his head to relieve him 
of the intense heat, he looked searchingly into her 
face and inquired : “ Edna, if I get well will you 

be my wife ?” “ If it is your wish,” she replied. 

A smile flitted across his face at the thought 
which her words implied, as though there might be 
a doubt about his wishing it. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


855 


He said, “ I feel that I am growing worse, and I 
wish you to remain beside me to the last, which, if 
we are married now, no one can say aught against ; 
and if I die you would inherit my estate, and it 
would soothe the pain of death to know that when 
I am gone, you will wear my name, and live in 
my dear old home with my mother.” 

Edna raised her eyes inquiringly to Dr. Evert, 
and he, seeing the unspoken query ; said, — 

“ I think it decidedly the best, in case of life or 
death, that you marry now.” 

“I will wed you when you choose,” she said 
softly to Homer; and he eagerly replied, “Then 
let it be at once.” 

Dr. Evert hastily left the room to make the 
necessary arrangements. In a short time he re- 
turned, and took the position of watcher by the 
bedside, while Edna went to change her dress. 

Fortunately, when packing her trunk she had put 
in a white dress which her mother had always ad- 
mired on account of its filmy, cloud-like appearance. 

She hastily made her toilet, and when she fin- 
ished, the wish arose that she had some orange 
blossoms, that she might go to Homer as he 
dreamed, with them in her hands and hair. 

At that moment Dr. Evert came to her door, bear- 
ing a large bouquet of orange blossoms, no difficult 
flower to obtain in that land. He broke off a clus- 
ter, and as he placed them in her hair he said with 
a sigh, — 


356 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“If it were not for the sad possibilities which 
confront us, this hour in which I give you to one 
so well worthy of you, would be a happy hour to 
me.” 

A pallor as of death swept over her cheeks at 
the fear which his words implied ; and she looked 
at him with eyes whose imploring anguish stirred 
the fountain of his tears, as she said : 

“01 cannot give him up ! Is there no hope that 
his life may be saved ?” 

The doctor hesitated a moment and then replied : 

“We will continue to hope, but we have much 
reason to fear.” 

In the room where Homer lay, there stood await- 
ing them the minister and Dr. Randall, also a nurse 
from the adjoining sick-room. 

Through the open window the perfume was 
wafted from orange trees, and the setting sun threw 
his last lingering rays into the apartment, and one 
beam rested upon Homer’s brown hair like a ray 
of glory. 

He had been propped up in bed, and a hectic 
flush burnt upon his cheeks ; his eyes beamed 
with unnatural luster, and his lips, covered by a 
silky brown mustache, were tremulous with feeling. 

A hush, solemn as of death, fell over the group, 
as Dr. Evert entered with Edna. Her cheeks were 
white as the flowers she wore; and her white, filmy 
draperies floated around her, giving her an ethereal 
appearance. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


357 


Then began the solemn words, so full of grave 
import to all who take those vows upon themselves. 
Not once during the ceremony did Homer remove 
his gaze from Edna’s face. At the last words, “I 
pronounce you man and wife,” she stooped and 
pressed a kiss upon his brow. 

“My dream,” he murmured faintly. Then in 
in low tones, tremulous with joy, “My wife, my 
Eve, how can I thank my God for all his mercies ?” 


358 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

LOOK ON A LOVE THAT KNOWS NOT TO DESPAIR. 

Oh, do not die, beloved, our ways are one, 

And, like our hearts, cannot divided be ; 

Combat death’s angel that doth call thee on, 

And live for love and me 

For many years thereafter Edna could never 
remember her wedding day, and the hours of 
hopeless watching which followed, without a rush 
of tears and quivering lips. All evening she sat 
by Homer in her bridal robes, trying for his sake 
to be calm, and with unwearied fingers bathing 
his head, and striving to allay his pain. 

Yellow fever is a self-limited disease, not to be 
treated, but to be managed. All that can be done 
is to keep the patient alive until the disease has 
run its course. But with the best of nursing, Ho- 
mer’s condition rapidly became more dangerous. 
His sufferings were terrible to witness, and once, 
when it was necessary to move him, he fainted 
away. 

Edna thought she had known sorrow before, but 
now there surged in her heart a pain, which in its 
depth and intensity is like no other. 

Once when there was a short lull in the storm of 
pain which assailed him, he looked up into her 
face with a smile which made her heart ache, as 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 


359 


he said : “ My wife, you can never know what 

you have been to me, in tenderness and sweetness, 
since the day we met at your brother’s grave. O, 
how my heart went out to you, and claimed you, 
soul of my soul. And now, after all these years 
of weary waiting, you have become indeed mine, 
only to hold my hand as I go down to the river of 
death. But, O my beloved, it is sweet to think 
that as the cold waves of the mystical river sweep 
upon me, my dying eyes can rest upon your face, 
and carry its sweet impress with me until I meet 
you at the Gates of Pearl. 

Edna saw that from having witnessed so many 
deaths, his mind had become depressed, and he 
now looked upon her coming as a crowning mercy, 
that he might bestow upon her his name and 
wealth, and die in her arms. 

She had often heard Dr. Evert speak of the 
power which the mind exerts over the body, and 
knew from what she had read of the nature of the 
malady, that in yellow fever the mind exerts a 
greater influence than in almost any other dis- 
ease ; and she believed that if she could only im- 
bue Homer with the hope to live, his life might be 
saved. 

Drs. Evert and Randall were holding a consul- 
tation in an adjoining room, and she had read in 
their eyes that they believed the case hopeless. 

“ Homer,” Edna said in tones of imploring ten- 
derness, “do you mean to die and break my 


360 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


heart? Have you no pity for me, or for your 
mother ? I believe that you can live if you will. 
Think what misery your death would entail upon 
us— upon the friends that love you — upon the 
church at home. Ho one can ever be to them 
what you are ; no one can ever do the good there 
that you can. Then think how happily we might 
live there, and the good we might do ; I by my 
pen, and you by word of mouth. Oh, how sweet 
it would be for us to grow old together in the 
Master’s service ? You have spent only the morn- 
ing hours in labor ; will you leave me to labor on 
in the heat of the day, sad and alone ? The Mas- 
ter has yet much work for you to do. Oh, do you 
not hear his cause calling to you, to live, and 
labor on, so that in the eventide of life we may 
enter God’s Kingdom together, with our arms laden 
with precious sheaves ? ” 

In the intensity of her emotion, Edna had fallen 
upon her knees beside the bed, and her face was 
raised in agonized, prayerful pleading. 

Homer drew her to his breast. “ My beloved, 
forgive me if I have caused you pain. The impres- 
sion that I was to die had grown so strong that I 
had not thought to live. But now, God helping 
me, I will try to live, for your sake and His cause. 

Edna was deaf to all their entreaties that she 
should go and rest. She resolutely staid by Ho- 
mer, fearful to leave for a moment, lest she should 
be needed. 


03i, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


361 


As tlie night waned there was a perceptible 
change for the better in the condition of the pa- 
tient ; and about sunrise, being almost free from 
pain and utterly exhausted, he fell asleep and 
slept for an hour. 

When he awoke, much refreshed, his glance fell 
upon Edna, who sat beside him in her bridal 
dress. 

She had fallen asleep in her chair, and the 
orange blossoms on her bosom and in her hair 
were crushed and withered; and even in sleep her 
face bore the impress of the sad thoughts which 
had swayed her mind for many hours, while the 
intense blackness of her hair and eyelashes con- 
trasted strangely with her cheeks, which might 
have been of sculptured marble, so white and cold 
they looked. 

Homer lay there and looked at her through a 
mist of pitying tears. 

What a strange bridal hers had been, and what 
a sad and weary bride she looked ! And all his 
chivalrous love and tenderness — which is the nat- 
ural instinct of every true man — arose in rebellion 
against her fate. All the wealth of his loving 
heart and stainless manhood had been laid at her 
feet, and yet it had only brought her sorrow. 

While he lay there, struggling with the desire 
to awake her and send her to her room to rest, 
and yet fearing to do so lest she would refuse to 
go and he would thereby deprive her of the rest 


362 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 

which she was at present obtaining, Dr. Evert 
entered the room, and she opened her eyes won- 
deringly ; then her glance fell upon Homer. 

“ You are better ? ” she questioned, eagerly. 

“Much better,” he replied; “thanks to your 
skill and words ; I believe that I shall get well.” 

She pressed a kiss upon his brow, then moved 
away to the window to hide the glad tears which 
had rushed to her eyes. 

After congratulating Homer upon his evident im- 
provement, Dr. Evert stood beside Edna and said, 

“ I have been caring for a sufferer across the hall 
for the last two hours.” 

“ How is he now ? ” 

“ Free from pain” he replied significantly. 

She shuddered, thinking of Homer. 

“ Have you noticed that it frosted last night ?” 
Dr. Evert inquired; “My heart leapt with joy 
when I saw it. Yellow fever seldom continues 
after frost comes ; I believe now there is very little 
danger of your taking it, and that relieves my 
mind of what has been a great anxiety.” 

“ I had not thought of myself,” she said simply. 

“Edna,” Homer called. 

She went to him in sweet submissiveness. 

His face was grave, but there was a flash of 
mirth in his brown eyes as he inquired, 

“ Did you not promise to obey me ?” 

“ The ready color flew to her cheeks. “ I did,” 
she replied softly. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


363 


“ Then hear iny first command,” he said smil- 
ingly. “ Go to your room, and go to sleep.” 

“ Do you always mean to Ibe so dictatorial ?” she 
queried archly. Then as Dr. Evert promised to sit 
with Homer, she obediently went away, returning 
in a few hours much refreshed by a dreamless sleep, 
and fresh toilet. 

Homer steadily gained in health and in a few 
days was able to sit with them out upon the bal- 
cony. 

O, what a happy convalescing was that ; upon 
his face there rested a look of measureless content ; 
and in his eyes a deep serenity, as of one at home 
with bliss. 

A happy group they formed ; and it was a de- 
light to Homer, in those days when Dr. Evert was 
present, to call Edna by her new name. It was so 
beautiful to those two men, to whom she was so 
dear, to witness the tender, rosy bloom flush her 
cheeks, and the shy sweet glance of her eyes be- 
neath her downcast lashes. 

At last, when Homer had quite recovered his 
health, Dr. Evert bade them good-bye, — advising 
them to take a trip to Colorado to insure his per- 
fect restoration to health. 

This they accordingly did ; and about a month 
after their marriage found themselves in a little 
town, which, amid a wilderness of beauty and 
strange sights, nestles lovingly at the foot of a 
great mountain. 


364 


EDXA CARLISLE; 


They had received many letters of congratula- 
tion from their friends ; hut Flossie had been no- 
ticeably tardy in this respect. 

However, a few days after their arrival there, 
Edna received a letter from Flossie, and read it 
with a smile that broke into a rippling laugh at 
the close. 

“ Are your correspondents usually so amusing ?” 
Homer smilingly inquired. 

“Ho, indeed,” she replied; “ and as I fancy this 
letter was partially intended for you I will read it 
aloud : 

“ Mrs. Homer Atwood : — I hope I come before 
you with due respect and becoming humility. 
Nevertheless, Violet, I have somewhat against you. 
Did you not promise to float with me down the 
stream of time in maiden blessedness, happy in my 
love and desiring no other ? and lo ! soon as my 
back was turned you ran away and got married ! 
O, most faithless of your sex! I am quite broken- 
hearted when I think of the inconstancy of woman- 
kind. Have I not worshipped you for years ? Has 
not the wealth of my great loving heart been 
poured out at your feet like water ? I doubt that 
I shall ever recover from this cruel blow. I have 
been laboring for the last two weeks upon a poem, 
which I tried to construct in such a manner that it 
would forcibly depict my heart-rending grief, but 
I find that my sorrow is too deep to be expressed 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


365 


in smooth-flowing sentences ; and as I am unaccus- 
tomed to writing poetry, I decided to let the matter 
rest until you come home and get you to write it 
for me. Violet, when I think of your cruel deser- 
tion of me , and my papa’s audacity in giving you 
away without asking my consent, and the oddness 
of the whole affair, I am lost in wonderment. I 
have made papa recount the circumstance again 
and again. And when I asked him for the fortieth 
time how you looked, he laughed and said that 
the thought once struck him that you looked like 
an angel, but he recognized the incongruity of his 
simile, for angels are always pictured with fair 
hair. O, what a blessed crumb of comfort his 
words conveyed to me, for if angels are tow-headed 
then I must look angelic. How I did roll his words 
as a sweet morsel under my tongue. I am just on 
tip-toe with anxiety for your return, for I have 
heard wonderful accounts of a grand reception that 
awaits you. And now, my dear children, with a 
heart full of fond wishes I bid yofl. good-bye, paus- 
ing only to beg that you will try to live in loving 
accord, 4 striving earnestly after those things which 
make for peace ; ’ and lest you fall into serious 
trouble, I will write you a motto, which I hope you 
will ever keep before your minds : 

“ Birds in their little nests agree, 

And ’tis a shameful sight ; 

When people of one family, 

Fall out, and chide, and fight. 


366 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


“Notwithstanding I have been treated in a most 
heartless manner, I shall ever remain your loving 

“ Friend and sister, Flossie. 

“ P. S. — Earl Whitney is somewhere in Colorado. 
Perhaps you may meet him.” 

Homer laughed at the motto which Flossie had 
written for their admonition ; then after a moment’s 
reflection said, — 

“Edna.” 

She looked up and saw in his eyes that loving 
look which she had not yet learned to meet with- 
out an additional pink color creeping into her 
cheeks. 

“ Edna, do you think it possible that you and I 
would ever quarrel ? ” 

“ No,” she answered softly, “ I have not so 
learned from my Bible. ‘ Let the wife see that she 
reverence her husband.’ We can not quarrel with 
a being whom we reverence . Beside, I mean to 
obey you. I would obey the man I married out of 
self-respect, if for no other reason. But when love 
and the law of God require it, it will be my pleas- 
ure, as well as my duty to obey.” 

“ My wife ! My Eve,” Homer said in tones of 
tenderest love ; “ how shall I reply to you ? I will 
answer you in poetry, the language we both love 
best. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


367 


“ Edna, my darling, at last you have come, 

To trust your future to me ; 

The angels of Heaven would be tempted to roam 
Were it fair as I wish it to be ; 

Life’s thorns from your path I’ll clear away, 

Ho rough winds on you shall blow : 

A heaven of love shall woo your stay, 

Till our heads are crowned with life’s snow.” 


368 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE NAME ON THE TREE. 

And often now in evening gloom, 

I sit with Memory by the tomb 
Of buried hopes, whose withered bloom 
Will ne’er again waft me perfume. 

The little town where Homer and Edna were 
stopping was known far and wide for the beauty 
of its surroundings ; and every day they went forth 
exploring the wonders of nature; climbing the 
mountain, or visiting the falls ; gathering autumnal 
flowers, or collecting fossils ; and every evening 
Homer preached in the school house, there being 
no church yet erected in the town. 

His preaching met with great success, for his au- 
diences were large, and he told them the old, sweet 
story of the cross with a natural eloquence and the 
joyous enthusiasm of one who has found that the 
Lord is indeed precious, and Jesus is the "Way, the 
Truth, and the Life. 

One morning, as a soft October haze rested upon 
hill and valley, Homer and Edna went out for a 
ramble. Edna gathered a lot of beautifully tinted 
autumn leaves which she meant to preserve ; and 
just as they were about to return to the hotel, she 
observed that a large pine tree which overshadowed 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


369 


a towering ledge of rocks, had recently been peeled 
and a name carved thereon. 

Speaking of it to Homer, she said, — 

“I wish I knew that name. That any one should 
take the trouble to carve his name in a spot 
which is so difficult of access as that evidently is, 
arouses my curiosity.” 

“ Your wishes are my law,” Homer gallantly re- 
plied, as he smilingly clambered up to where he 
might read the name. 

“ Earl Whitney ! ” he exclaimed a moment later. 

“Earl!” Edna repeated; and for a moment the 
healthy color fled from her cheeks. 

“ Yes, Earl Whitney. He must be here now, for 
those letters are freshly made.” 

Then looking earnestly at her he said, — 

“ You do not fear to meet him, do you ? ” 

“ No,” she answered, “I could meet him as read- 
ily as any of my old friends, but for him it will be 
painful.” 

“ Yes,” said Homer, as he gazed in the distance, 
“ I do not doubt that after having loved you so 
long, to meet you just now, when his sense of loss 
is so recent, would be very hard to bear; and 
while I cannot grieve that he has lost, since I have 
won, I shall be very sorry for my old friend. I 
say friend, for such I shall regard him ; there never 
was a spirit of rivalry between us.” 

That afternoon Edna sat alone in her room, and 
21 


370 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


ber gaze rested upon the mountain, at the foot of 
which summer still lovingly lingered, while upon 
•the top she could see the snow falling heavily. 
The scene pleased her greatly, and while she looked 
upon it with a smile upon her lips, Homer entered 
the room, and coming to her side, said, — 

“ I met Earl and Mr. Ross a few minutes ago. 
They will come this afternoon to pay their respects 
to you.” 

Edna saw a brooding shadow in Homer’s eyes, 
and laying her hand upon his arm she looked up 
at him with eloquent, pleading face. 

“You do not doubt my love?” she questioned 
■softly. 

“No, my darling,” he answered, as he kissed her 
upturned face. “How could I when you have 
braved so much for me ? It is of Earl I am think- 
ing. I plainly saw that it distressed him to find 
us here, and I would gladly spare him pain.” 

It had pained Earl to find that they were there. 
Edna’s marriage had been a terrible blow to him, 
notwithstanding he had given up all hope of win- 
ning her himself. Once when Ross remonstrated 
with Earl, telling him that he must cease to love 
Edna now that she was married, he replied, — “ My 
love for her is as lasting as my life. Never until I 
cease to breathe, shall I cease to love her. There 
can be no sin in a love like mine ; I love her as 
purely as some people love their God ; for she was 
the deity whom I worshipped, the heaven around 


OK, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


371 


which my hopes clustered ; and I can no more for- 
get her than Adam could cease to remember Eden, 
because he was separated from thence by the flam- 
ing sword.” 

Earl’s greatest strength lay in his power of lov- 
ing deeply ; and painful as it was under the cir- 
cumstances for him to meet Edna, still he deter- 
mined that she should not be grieved by knowing 
how he suffered ; and when he called at their hotel 
he played his part so perfectly, that he left her 
pleased and wondering that he bore it so lightly. 

That evening Earl and Eoss went to hear Homer 
preach. It was an act of courtesy upon Earl’s part, 
rather than because he desired to hear the words 
of eternal life. 

Shortly after they arrived there, Homer and Edna 
came in ; and after he had found a seat for his 
bride, Homer mounted the rostrum, — with a princely 
bearing, Earl thought, — as though conscious of be- 
ing the bearer of a Sovereign’s message of love and 
mercy to a waiting people. His text was, “ Our 
citizenship is in Heaven ; ” and as he told of the 
beauty and bliss of that land, and spoke of faith, 
repentance and baptism as the naturalization ordi- 
nance which makes us citizens of that kingdom, 
and extolled the glory of its King, the Prince of 
Peace, whose love has drawn all nations unto him- 
self to crown him King of kings and Lord of lords, 
— as Homer delivered this royal welcome, many of 
his hearers signified their desire to become citizens 


372 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


of that glorified land. But the words held no mean- 
ing for Earl. He sat under all that fire of eloquent 
pleading with ears that heard not. He was so much 
engrossed in weak self-pity, that he never realized 
that as he had weakly robbed himself of earthly 
love, he was also robbing his soul of eternal love 
and bliss. 

Early the next morning Earl and Boss went to 
visit the Falls ; and being wearied with their long 
ramble, they sat down to rest upon a large rock 
which was screened from the view of those who 
passed by by a mass of low shrubbery. 

Earl was silent and moody ; and his sadness was 
so infectious that Boss felt no desire to speak, un- 
til at last they heard a low, sweet laugh, and on 
looking up beheld Homer and Edna coming slowly 
up the mountain side. 

Unwitting of ^the proximity of Earl and Boss, 
Homer seated Edna quite near them upon a mossy 
boulder, and taking off his hat laid himself down 
upon the soft green grass at her feet. 

Boss was about to make their presence known, 
but Earl whispered hoarsely, — 

“ For heaven’s sake, do not speak ; I would not 
for the world meet them just now.” 

Edna had gathered some autumn flowers, and 
these she began deftly weaving into a wreath, 
while Homer lay there watching with a musing 
smile the woven crown and the weaving hand. 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


373 


Presently she paused, and looked around her 
with a little sigh of sweet content. 

“ How beautiful it is here,” she said. “ I think 
I would be content to live here always, never desir- 
ing any other home or companionship.” 

Homer smiled incredulously, saying, — 

“You would soon grow weary of such a life, I 
think.” 

“You are no true Adam,” she laughingly re- 
torted. “ He believed what his wife told him.” 

Homer smilingly replied, — 

“ That is true, but it had been better for them 
and for their descendants if he had held steadfastly 
to what he knew to be right. (Doubtless she re- 
proached him afterward that he did not do so). 
And so when my Eve advocates some visionary 
idea, for her sweet sake I will weigh the subject 
well before I decide.” 

“ It seems so odd that you should call me Eve,” 
Edna said, with a musing smile. 

“Does it?” he laughingly inquired. “I do so 
because it seems to me that we were made for each 
other ; without you my life was as incomplete as 
was that of Adam ; and as Eve must have been 
the very perfection of womanly gentleness and 
loveliness, her name seems to me most appropri- 
ate for you. 


374 


EDNA CAKLISLE; 


“ All, what am I that God should bow 
From Heaven to choose a wife for me ? 

Or what deserve he should endow, 

My home with thee ? ” 

A beautiful blush suffused Edna’s fair face, and 
unconscious of the jealous eyes that watched her 
through the screening shrubbery, she stooped and 
pressed a kiss upon the face that was looking up 
into her own with so much loving adoration. 

After awhile they arose and continued their as- 
cent up the mountain. 

Edna insisted upon going higher and higher, 
until she at last grew weary, and by the time the 
descent was made she was quite faint from her 
unusual exertions, and from breathing the light 
air. 

Homer had been announced to preach that 
night, and as Edna was too weary to accompany 
him as usual, she bade him a loving good-bye, 
promising to go immediately to rest. 

An hour later she was sleeping heavily; the 
light was turned low, and as she lay there she 
seemed the very ideal of innocent beauty. One 
soft round arm, from which the lace sleeve had 
fallen away, was thrown back upon the pillow to 
form a snowy resting place for her lovely cheek ; 
and she slept on, sweetly unconscious that in the 
lower part of the building a terrible foe was steal- 
ing toward her. 

Presently the cry, “Fire! fire! fire!” rang out 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


375 


upon the air ; but the fire was under full headway 
when it was discovered, and the wind being high 
and the building being frame, it burned like tin- 
der. 

“ Fire ! fire ! fire ! ” rang out the appalling cry^ 
But always a fieavy sleeper, and being exceedingly 
weary now, she slept on. 

There were but few persons in the building at 
that early hour, and as it had been Edna’s custom 
to accompany Homer to the meetings, it was 
thought she was with him now. 

So she slept on, unconscious that the mad 
flames were licking beneath her door. 

The tumult grew louder outside — smoke filled 
the room — she awoke, pale and gasping for 
breath. 

Weak and frightened, she crept to the window.. 
A number of eager, excited people were gesticu- 
lating and shouting without ; while the roar of the 
flames and the crash of the falling timbers made 
her shudder at her horrible fate. 

Raising her arms Heavenward in one wild ap- 
peal to God to comfort Homer, when he should 
discover that she had perished in the flames, and 
committing her soul to Infinite love, she fell to the 
floor, stifled by the smoke, and gasping for 
breath. 


376 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XL. 

“ THERE IS BEGGARY IN THE LOVE THAT CAN BE 
RECKONED. ” 


“ And who that dear loved one may be, 

Is not for vulgar eyes to see ; 

And why that early love w r as crost, 

Thou know’st the best, I feel the most; 

But few that dwell beneath the sun, 

Have loved so long, and loved but one.” 

A thrill of excitement passed over the audience 
to which Homer was preaching, as the cry of “fire ! 
fire !” was passed from lip to lip by those in the 
street. The town was small and had no facilities 
for quenching a fire, and hence that cry was a 
most appalling one. 

Many persons immediately arose and left the 
building, while Homer, all unconscious of the lo- 
cality of the fire, strove by a few words to bring 
the meeting to an orderly close. 

Earl and Ross were sitting near the door, and at 
the first cry of fire they quietly arose and stepped 
out into the street. 

The position of the fire was easy to descry, for 
the hotel, distant about two blocks, was wrapped 
in flames. 

“ My God ! ” Earl exclaimed, and without 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 377 

another word sped down the street, followed by 
floss. 

When they reached the spot, an excited crowd 
had already gathered around the building. Eager- 
ly scanning the faces of those present, Earl 
missed the one he came to find. 

“ Edna ! Edna !” his voice rang out in agonizing 
tones above the din and tumult. 

At that moment the flames lit up the front of 
the building, and he saw the beloved form stand- 
ing at an upper window — saw her throw up her 
arms with a despairing gesture and fall back- 
ward ; and instantly his mind took in the situa- 
tion. 

Madly he dashed to the entrance, but was held 
back by friendly force. “It is death to go in 
there,” was shouted in his ear. 

Struggling to free himself, he failed. Then 
dealing the man that held him an angry blow that 
sent him reeling against the wall, and eluding 
other detaining arms, Earl dashed up the burn- 
ing stairway. The flames roared around him, and 
the stairs burned and crackled beneath his feet ; 
but heedless of all danger to himself, he rushed on 
until he reached that white-robed figure lying 
prone upon the floor. 

He knew that she had fainted ; and snatching a 
blanket from the bed, he hastily enveloped the be- 
loved form and lovely head. Then raising her in 


378 


EDNA CARLISLE I 


his strong arms — made doubly strong now by love 
and fear, — he bore her out into the hall. 

The hot smoke rushed into his face and blinded 
him, and he staggered helplessly against the burn- 
ing wall ; then rallying, dashed down the burning 
stairway. 

The flames burned his face and hands — the 
smoke blinded him and filled the air he breathed 
until he gasped for breath — the stair was like fire 
beneath his feet. When half way down the crowd 
saw him and cheered— a few more steps, and with 
a crash the stair-case gave way, and he fell back- 
ward, realizing as he did so, that Homer caught 
his precious burden from his arms, and then Earl 
lapsed into unconsciousness. 

He knew not that a dozen hands, inspired by his 
heroism, and heedless of danger, snatched him 
from the flames, and after extinguishing his burn- 
ing clothes, bore him hastily to his hotel. 

When consciousness returned he was lying upon 
a bed and a physician was bending over him ap- 
plying restoratives. Ross and Homer were stand- 
ing near, and Earl observed a glance of pleased 
intelligence pass between them when they saw 
that he was conscious. 

His burns speedily brought to his mind a reali- 
zation of what had occurred ; and writhing with 
pain he would fain have passed again into that 
merciful oblivion. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


379 


A tear fell upon liis face, and looking up lie be- 
held Ilomer bending over him. 

Earl dimly wondered what could be the cause of 
Homer’s emotion ; then the thought flashed across 
his bewildered mind that perhaps Edna was dead. 

Half rising from the pillow with fright at the 
terrible thought, he exclaimed, 

“ Where is Edna ! Did I not save her after all?” 

“ She is safe,” Homer replied, struggling to con- 
trol his emotion. 

“ She is safe. Hot one hair of her head is in- 
jured. But oh, my friend, I grieve for you. 
Gladly would I bear these painful burns in your 
stead.” 

Earl sank back on the pillow, smiling faintly. 

“ You have done many noble deeds ; would you 
not let me have the honor of doing one? A soldier 
glories in his wounds, and I am proud of these 
burns, for they say that my life has not been alto- 
gether worthless, since I have saved her from a 
cruel death.” 

Homer instinctively felt that thanks from him 
would be displeasing to Earl ; so he only said, — 

“ In saving her life you saved more than one 
heart from breaking; and now we hope to save 
the life which you so nobly risked for her.” 

Earl turned his head away sadly. “ I do not 
wish to live. What has life for me ? Nothing but 
humiliations and heart-aches. If I have my wish 
I shall die now — a not dishonorable death. If I 


380 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


live on I may eventually fill a drunkard’s grave, 
and I would rather die now.” 

Homer’s heart ached for this rash, unprepared 
soul, so ready to plunge into the darkness of eter- 
nity; hut there was little time for preparation 
now. 

The mad flames had cruelly blistered Earl’s face 
and hands, and the hot smoke had scorched his 
lungs until he was spitting blood. 

Occasionally during that long, terrible night, 
Homer stole from Earl’s bedside to carry news of 
his condition to Edna, who had also been brought 
to this hotel. 

A lady friend sat with her, not that she needed 
care or nursing, for she lay upon her bed white 
and faint, seldom speaking; and only an occa- 
sional sob, and a glimmer of tears upon her 
lashes, told that she was not sleeping. 

At last she begged so piteously to see Earl, that 
they deemed it best to comply with her request ; 
so in the gray dawn of the morning, weak, and 
leaning heavily upon Homer’s arm, Edna crept 
into the room where the sufferer lay. 

A cooling lotion covered his face, and the poor 
hands which had so bravely carried her through 
the flames were swathed in linen. His face was 
turned away, and he had not heeded her step. 

“Earl,” she called, in faltering tones, as she 
stood beside him, “Earl.” 

He quickly turned to her a face upon which 


OR, FLOSSIE'S VIOLET. 


381 


a glad welcome shone, notwithstanding it was mar- 
red from all semblance of former beauty. 

“Oh, have you come?” he said, in tones of re- 
joicing. “I did not want to die until I could see 
with my own eyes that you were indeed un- 
harmed.” 

Glad tears that relieved the feverish pain in his 
eyes stole down his cheeks, as he looked at the 
lovely face, unscarred, not one hair of her head 
injured. 

“Earl,” she sobbed, “you have saved my life, 
but oh ! Earl, Earl, it almost breaks my heart to 
think of what you have suffered for me.” 

Homer felt the scene to be too sacred for ob- 
servers, and he withdrew to a distant part of the 
room, followed by the doctor and Koss. 

Earl looked at his wounded hands where Edna’s 
tears had been falling, and said, — 

“ Ah, I am causing you tears again. For many 
months I have caused you nothing but tears ; but 
that will all be over soon, I trust. Those tears 
should heal my burns, but I hope they will not ; 
for if I live on I will doubtless sink into a dis- 
honored grave, while if I die now, my friends will 
cherish my memory ; and you will perhaps stand 
sometime beside my grave and say, ‘ Dear soul, he 
loved me well ! He proved his love by giving his 
life for mine ! 5 

“Yes, thank God! I saved your life; that 
thought charms away the terrors of death, and 


382 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


now I have a request to make of you, (no need to 
grieve your tender heart by adding that it is the 
last). I wish you to use all your talents in plead- 
ing against intemperance. Think of what I have 
suffered because of it, — shame, humiliation, the 
blighting of my life’s fair aims, the loss of your 
love, my soul’s salvation, — think how terrible are 
the chains of this grievous sin, which, though I 
struggled so hard to break, yet I could not. But 
I could face death for you. Yea, I would have 
faced ten thousand deaths for love of you.” 

After a pause, Earl said, — “You do not think 
that now, since I have saved your life, which must 
be precious in God’s sight, he will shut the door 
of Heaven upon me, do you? ” 

Edna replied, tearfully, softly, “God is full of 
tender love and mercy, not willing that any should 
perish ; but if we repent of our sins, he is faithful 
and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us 
from all unrighteousness.” 

“Repent!” Earl repeated. “Have I not been 
sorry for my sins every day of my life? Yet 
when the temptation came again, I did the same 
thing over again.” 

“Ah,” she said, “that is not true repentance. 
True repentance is a sorrow for, and a turning 
away from sin. Oh, that you would let the Lamb 
of God, who taketh away the sins of the world, 
take away your sins. There is power in the name 
of the Son of God to help us overcome temptation. 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


383 


Sheltered as my life has been, I have known 
temptation ; but the whispered name of Jesus has 
been sufficient to shield me from all harm.” 

Earl turned away his head, sighing wearily. 
“These things should be attended to in time of 
health ; my suffering body claims all my attention 
now. I have one more request to make of you; 
forgive me that in doing so I must touch upon the 
past. The night I told you of my love, and you 
promised to be my wife, you carried in your hand 
a cluster of pansies ; and my request is, that when 
I am dead, you will place over my heart such a 
cluster of pansies, — heartsease, some call them. 
Perhaps then this aching heart of mine will find 
rest.” 

Earl turned away his eyes that he might not see 
her fast falling tears. After a little he sighed, — 

“O, my eyes burn, and my head aches so! 
Would you put your hands upon my brow? Per- 
haps it would ease the pain.” She did as he 
requested. 

“Dear, cool hands,” he murmured; “ thank God 
I saved them from the cruel flames ! ” 

A little later, hearing their voices no longer, the 
others in the room drew near the bed, and saw 
that Earl was sleeping sweetly, like a weary child. 


384 


EDXA CARLISLE; 


CHAPTER XLI. 

“the past uxregretted, the future sure.” 

“ As some lone bird, without a mate, 

My weary heart is desolate; 

My own sad thoughts I cannot shun, 

But ever love, and love but one.” 

Death will not come for the wishing, and though 
Earl lay for many days near the dark portal, 
death at last withdrew, and the angel of life led 
him away from the dark and dreamless sleep 
which he craved. 

Homer and Edna staid with Earl until he had 
entirely recovered ; then they returned home to the 
busy, happy life awaiting them. 

The following spring Ross and Ivy were mar- 
ried ; and shortly after that event, Beulah returned 
home, sad and alone, except for the companion- 
ship of a puny, black-eyed baby. 

Even she — woman of the world as she was — 
could only abhor the man she had married, when 
ishe discovered his true nature. Just; what she 
had learned that caused her to leave her husband 
so unceremoniously never transpired ; for she reso- 
lutely refused to speak of him. Henceforward she 
was a hardened, haughty woman ; living only for 
her child, she took no pleasure in aught beside ; 
and if Earl sometimes fell a victim to intemper- 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 


385 


ance — as often happened in the years that follow- 
ed — Beulah would reproach him with so much 
scorn and bitterness, that he was glad to go ta 
Ivy to be sympathized with and wept over. 

Sometimes it seemed to Earl that he must have 
given up the battle, had it not been for the sym- 
pathy and encouragement which he received from 
Ross and Ivy. 

But still it was the same old story ; sometimes 
he would refrain from the use of intoxicants for 
months ; then would come an unwonted temptation 
and he would fall, — and then, oh, the shame and 
humiliation that followed ! 

I know not if he may yet be saved. If so, it 
will be as by fire; but of this I am sure, — he 
was cast in a noble mould, and would have lived 
a happy and virtuous life, had it not been for the 
awful evil which has blighted so many lives, and 
ruined so many homes. 

Though many pressing invitations were given 
him, Earl steadily refused to visit at Dr. Evert’s. 
But every summer he made a pilgrimage to the 
little town where he had saved Edna’s life; and 
there in the silence of the great hills he reviewed 
his life, — its past and present; his hopes, and 
aims, and failures, and humiliations ; and tried to 
gain strength to begin the battle anew. 

Edna’s life was full of happiness and faithful 
labor, he knew ; for several of her literary works 

23 


386 


EDNA CARLISLE; 


had been sent him, directed in Homer’s hand- 
writing, and they all breathed a sunny spirit, full 
of bouyant faith and hope, which did him good for 
days to come. 

Sometimes Homer wrote strong, cheering letters ; 
letters which often revealed to Earl that the life he 
had saved from the dames was proving a blessing 
to many hearts. 

Though often invited, Earl refused to visit them. 
No, he told himself, Edna did not need him, her 
life was full. His presence could bring her no 
added joy. 

Once when Ivy hinted that he might yet find 
some fair girl to be his wife, Earl replied, — 

“I do not look for marriage blessings now; I 
would not bind another to my blighted life ; beside, 
I have no heart to give. If I had been more worthy 
I would be as happy now as is given to any of 
God’s creatures ; but now, I live only to regret. 

“ O that word Regret ! There have been nights 
and morns when we have sighed : 

“■ ‘ Let us alone, Regret ! We are content 

To throw thee all our past, so thou wilt sleep 
For aye. But it is patient, and it wakes ; 

It hath not learned to cry itself to sleep, 

But plaineth on the bed that it is hard.’ ” 

Edna’s literary works bring her large pecuniary 
returns ; and she often says that blessings seem to 
flow both ways from them ; for she has much 
reason to believe that they accomplish some good 


or, Flossie’s violet. 


387 


in the world where they are so gladly welcomed ; 
and the money which she receives for them, she 
conscientiously applies to “benevolent purposes, 
and in providing liberally for her mother and aged 
grandmother. 

She often visits her mother, sometimes accom- 
panied by Homer, sometimes by Flossie, but oftener 
alone. 

Mrs. Slater seldom returns those visits ; the old 
scenes awake in her heart too many pains that 
never heal, and full lightly sleep. She ages rapidly, 
and feels that she would not shrink to enter the 
phantom barque, with the boatman pale, if after 
all these weary heart-aches she may at last find — 
Peace. 

To Dr. Evert and his wife, the years glide peace- 
fully by. The storms of life, which rage so fiercely 
upon the shores of the lives of others, pass gently 
by them. Their hearts are fragrant with the mem- 
ories of days wisely spent. They glory in the suc- 
cesses of their adopted child, and rejoice that in 
caring for her, “ the seeds of kindness were not 
sown on the rocks to die.” 

Mrs. Atwood lives on, the revered member of her 
son’s happy family, surrounded by a halo of love 
and honor. To her, Edna is indeed as a beloved 
daughter, and often Mrs. Atwood lays her hand 
fondly upon her son’s arm, and says, — u God loved 
this man, and chose a wife for him — the true one.” 

Edna has certain hours of each day that are set 


388 


EDNA CARLISLE ; 


'apart for study and writing — hours which are 
broken in upon by no one but Flossie, who flashes 
in and out at her own sweet will, restrained by no 
laws or rules, and though it trespasses upon her 
time, Edna is always glad to lay down book or 
pen, to converse with, or to caress and be caressed 
by her darling Flossie. 

At one time Edna feared they were going to lose 
Flossie. A young ministerial friend of Homer’s 
had been spending his summer vacation with them, 
and meeting Flossie there, was quite bewildered 
by her saucy ways and bright eyes. Flossie 
•seemed to be not at all averse to him ; but when he 
asked her to be his wife, she refused him tearfully, 
reluctantly, more as if she were refusing the posi- 
tion which she would have to occupy as his wife, 
than as a refusal of himself. 

She naively confided to Edna afterward that she 
did like him a little bit ; but she could never think 
of being a minister’s wife. 

“I do not find such a position very trying,” Edna 
smilingly replied. 

“ O well ! ” Flossie retorted, “ Homer is such a 
sunny-tempered fellow, one would never imagine 
him to be a minister at all.” 

“And why should not ministers be happy?” 
Edna inquired. “ Surely, true Christians ought to 
be the happiest beings in the world ; for they have 
•all that this world contains of real pleasure, and 


OR, FLOSSIE’S VIOLET. 389 

have the promise of eternal bliss in the world to 
come.” 

“Yes,” Flossie replied, “I know all that. But 
you know quite well that people always associate 
in their minds a sort of funereal sadness in con- 
nection with ministers. Why, I remember being 
grievously shocked when I was a little girl by 
hearing a minister whistling ; I thought that, be- 
ing a minister, he was committing the unpardona- 
ble sin by whistling. 

“ It is no use talking,” Flossie added, “ I could 
never be a minister’s wife ; beside I am very hap- 
py at home with papa and mamma, and I know 
it would grieve them terribly to lose me ; so I shall 
go directly home, and I will try to get all this 
foolishness out of my head by finishing a picture 
which I have had upon the easel for some time. 
It is a love scene, and I am not certain that the fig- 
ures might not be taken to represent you and 
Homer. At any rate I intend to present it to you 
as a companion piece to the sketch I made the day 
of the picnic. But there are no tears in this pic- 
ture ; no troubles to darken the sky ; it is radiant 
with cloudless sunshine — a true picture of my Vio- 
let’s present life.” 

At this she was engaged when last I saw her. 
Bear, winsome Flossie ; it is with reluctance that I 
bid her good-bye. Life has much in store for her ; 
and her story is not yet told. 

To Homer and Edna the years pass happily by. 


390 


EDNA CARLISLE. 


Their minds and hearts are filled with the great 
aims and purposes of life, and they stamp each 
golden hour with the seal of some kindly deed ere 
it wings its way to God. And thus they live on, 
happy in each other’s love, and believing that 
only a veil separates them from the “Holy of 
holies,” and the glory which shall be revealed. 

And so with her feet treading paths of pleasant- 
ness, the fragrance of good deeds rising like in- 
cense about her, the rainbow of peace over-arching 
her sky and the sunlight of earthly and Heavenly 
love shining upon her, we bid good-bye to — 
Flossie’s Violet. 


THE END. 























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